The EverLocked Room
by twin-v
Summary: A year after the war, Dementors are infesting Great Britain. Draco Malfoy, a student of the sole Dementor Specialist in the country, teams up with Hermione Granger, an Unspeakable, in an effort to destroy the foulest creatures on earth.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: All things Harry Potter-ish belong to JK Rowling.

**Authors' Notes:** Another fic! Yay. This was written for Jenjou for the dmhgficexchange on livejournal. It's loosely based on the line "We could flood the streets with love and light and heat, whatever." (The Youth, MGMT). Other prompts were a fist fight, experimental magic, and the WWN. Special thanks to lucilla_joanna, our beta, our younger sister Bish for helping us with some aspects of this story, and our best friend Issa for helping us come up with whatever is inside the ever-locked room. :)

**Shameless plug**: To those of you who enjoyed Forgettable Vows, the story was nominated in the first phase of the Dramione Awards! It still has to go through a seconding round before making the final cut, so if you've enjoyed it, please do vote. :) Thanks also to everyone who have reviewed- sorry we haven't yet been able to reply to everyone!

To bookworm62442- sorry, we can't seem to pm you. But sure, go ahead! It's a great idea. :)

**Chapter 1**

Draco exhaled with relief as he walked towards the entrance hall. His parents were still with the Aurors, being taken into custody, but the Aurors had ordered Draco to fetch Goyle, as Draco had said he had seen his friend sitting in the Entrance Hall. The Aurors knew he wouldn't run, not without a wand, and not if his parents would be left behind.

Goyle seemed to have wandered off, so Draco headed towards the stairs and paused, unsure whether to go down to the dungeons or up, perhaps to the nearest lavatory. A sound caught his ears, and he looked up to see Goyle on the first floor landing, his back to Draco. Draco was about to call his friend when he saw Hermione Granger's terrified face looking at him from over Goyle's shoulder. Shocked, Draco realized that Goyle had the Gryffindor pressed against the wall, his hands around her neck, choking her. Granger was gasping for breath, her hands futilely trying to force Goyle to let go of her throat. Without a second thought, Draco ran up the stairs. He didn't have a wand, so he did the next best thing- he rammed into Goyle as hard as he could, causing him to release Granger as he fell.

Draco landed on top of Goyle, but even before he could catch his breath Goyle landed a punch on Draco's cheek, causing Draco's head to snap back. "Back off, Malfoy," Goyle growled, forcefully shoving Draco aside. Draco knew Goyle was going for Granger again, so he struggled to his knees and punched Goyle as hard as he could. Goyle barely flinched.

"Don't kill her," Draco managed to say, ducking as Goyle swung again.

"She's the reason Vince's dead," Goyle yelled, catching Draco off-guard and kicking him in the stomach. "But you are too, Malfoy. If you'd just let us kill them, they'd be the ones burning in that room."

Draco gasped, doubled over in pain as Goyle kicked him again. He wished he had a wand; as weak as he was physically against Goyle, magically he was more than twice Goyle's superior. He rolled to the side to avoid Goyle's right foot and grabbed the bigger boy's left ankle, giving a strong tug. Goyle fell to the floor, cursing. "You'll pay for that, Malfoy," he promised menacingly.

"_Stupefy_!" A flash of red light lit up the corridor and hit Goyle on the chest. He slumped down, unconscious.

Draco looked up and saw Granger holding her wand. "Are you okay?" he asked, alarmed by the hoarseness of her voice, the paleness of her skin. She nodded, walking slowly towards them. Deciding he sounded too concerned, Draco said, "In case you didn't notice, Granger, the war just ended. You don't need to get into trouble anymore." He spoke slowly, as if explaining something to someone less than intelligent.

As she drew closer, he saw the tears filling up in her eyes, and wished he hadn't said anything. Goyle's attack on her was nothing to joke about.

"He took my wand," she whispered, her voice rough and trembling. She sank to her knees beside Draco, who had found a convenient wall to lean back against. "I was going down to tell the Weasleys that we had gone up to Gryffindor Tower, and he- he took my wand and threw it down the stairs, and he grabbed m-my throat," she stammered, blinking rapidly against the tears in her eyes. It was futile. Draco tentatively rubbed her back as she cried, ignoring the throbbing of his own injuries. He felt somewhat responsible for her, since he had just rescued her. "You came just in time," she sobbed. "I thought I was going to die."

"No, you weren't," he said reassuringly. "You're bloody immortal, you and Potter and Weasley."

Hermione hiccupped, giving him a watery smile as she tried to get herself under control. "Why did you save me?"

"I didn't," he denied, uncomfortable with the thought of being a hero. If there was any time he should have saved her, it should have been when his aunt was torturing her. The thought of his helplessness then made Draco cringe. "Goyle wouldn't have killed you," he lied. He wondered if Goyle would have killed him, too. Did he really cause Crabbe's death? Maybe if he'd been a hero a bit sooner, perhaps by stunning Crabbe in the Room of Hidden Things, his friend would still be alive.

"We both know that isn't true," she said softly, her fingers massaging her bruised throat. "You didn't kill Crabbe, Malfoy," she said after a while, as though she knew what he was thinking. "Neither of us did. You're not a killer."

Draco sucked in his breath. Dumbledore had told him the same thing. Perhaps it was true. He couldn't think about it just then. It felt incredibly odd to be sitting in a hallway, talking to Granger. "I've got to get back to my parents. The Aurors sent me to look for Goyle. What should we do with him?"

"I... I don't really want people knowing about this," Hermione admitted. "Harry and Ron would take it badly, and the Weasleys too. I was thinking we could Obliviate him."

"That's fine with me," Draco said, standing up. "Maybe you could heal us first, though. I don't want my mother noticing I got into a fight."

"Wait," she looked up at him suspiciously, getting to her feet. "You agree to this? You don't want to maybe _use_ this to show that you're a- a good person?"

He shook his head. "I'm not a good person. But Goyle's in enough trouble already. And he's still my friend, he's just taking Crabbe's death badly. Besides, even if you tell everyone I saved you, they won't believe it. They'll say I staged it, or that it's typical of me using something like that to make them forget my past crimes... Consider it a matter of pride, Granger."

Hermione scoffed. "If that's what you want to call it, then fine."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked defensively.

"I'm just saying I think there's more to it than pride, Malfoy." She raised her wand to his face, and he flinched. "Stop fidgeting, I'll heal you." He allowed her to heal his face and hand, even rolling up his shirt so she could heal his stomach. Once she was done Hermione conjured a mirror so she could see and fix the damage done to her neck. Then she Obliviated Goyle.

"Just wake him up and rush to the Great Hall," Draco suggested. She nodded, but hesitated when she got to the top of the stairs.

"Thank you, Malfoy. I'll never forget this," she said softly, before reviving Goyle and running down the stairs. Draco gazed after her, wondering if that was the last he would see of Hermione Granger.

-0-0-

"Our research has shown an exponential increase in Dementor population," Draco announced, giving his audience a somber look. "The Dementors were nearly all wiped out after the final battle at Hogwarts, after the defeat of the Dark Lord. Research is still ongoing to determine exactly why this happened. One possibility is the sacrifice of love," Draco made a conscious effort not to sneer or grimace, "done by Harry Potter. Another is that the sheer joy of the majority of the masses, that we were all finally free from the Dark Lord, managed to overcome the Dementors and perhaps destroy some of them. Those that were not destroyed went into hiding. However, once the initial celebrations died down and the process of rebuilding and moving on began, people truly began to mourn. We believe that this is one factor, if not the _major_ factor, causing the return of the Dementors."

He paused, allowing his words to sink in. He saw some members of the audience shift uneasily. He waved his wand, conjuring a graph. "As you can see, the population of the Dementors was close to nothing, a year ago, after the final battle. The Dementors stayed away for a while, but three months later two Dementors were sighted in Aberdeen. Two months later, five Dementor sightings were reported, and Dr. Adams' methods of tracking Dementors revealed the presence of _twelve _Dementors in Great Britain. Now, a Dementor is sighted on an average of twice a week throughout Great Britain, and Dr. Adams has shown that there are now over a hundred and fifty Dementors spread across various parts of the UK. Dementors used to be confined to Azkaban, and so were out of the way of free citizens. Now, however, Dementors are not being used to guard prisoners in Azkaban, and pose a threat to the general population.

"What can be done? Research is still underway, however, there are, to date, no known methods for destroying Dementors. They shy away from Patronuses, and get weaker in the absence of strong emotions. This means that one possible strategy could be to round up the Dementors, using Patronuses, and keep them in captivity until they starve from lack of 'food'. However, no one knows how long this will take, or if it's even possible. One thing is certain, however, and that is that we must act, _now, _before their numbers increase again. Thank you."

The Minister, Kinglsey Shacklebolt, stood up. "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. That's quite impressive, though very troubling." He looked at the assembled Department Heads. "Dr. Adams and Mr. Malfoy have uncovered a very pressing problem. The question is now, what can we do?"

Draco took a step back and sat down as the various Ministry officials began discussing possible solutions. He looked at his boss and mentor, Dr. Mortimer Adams, and found the tall, thin man already engrossed in a journal article. He sighed. So much for any positive feedback.

After his trial, which took place about five months after the Battle at Hogwarts, Draco had spent another three months searching for a job. Finally, he was taken on by Dr. Adams, Dementor Specialist, who didn't care if Draco was a Malfoy, so long as he was intelligent. Draco had spent the last four months helping Dr. Adams count the Dementor population, and trying to figure out a way to stop their numbers from increasing. It was an interesting, though depressing job. Dr. Adams, in his quest for knowledge, seemed immune to the effects of the soul suckers, but Draco wasn't. He was forced to relive his memories of the war- Crabbe's death, Dumbledore's death, the murder of the Muggle Studies professor, and countless other memories he would rather forget. Dr. Adams had managed to capture one Dementor, which he kept in the basement guarded by his chimp Patronus and some very powerful Light magic. Draco himself wasn't allowed too close, as the Dementor seemed to get excited by his presence, but he still felt affected.

Draco looked up, realizing that Kingsley was trying to get Dr. Adams' attention. "Mortimer!" Kinglsey called. Draco tapped his boss on the arm and nodded at Kingsley.

The Minister smiled gratefully at Draco. "We were thinking of getting the Aurors to round up the Dementors. Drive them into a certain area, confine them, if possible. How close do you think you are to finding out how to destroy them?"

"Tomorrow!" Dr. Adams said arrogantly. "We'll know how to destroy them by tomorrow."

Everyone, including Draco, stared at the scientist incredulously. "_Tomorrow_?" Kingsley repeated, stunned.

Dr. Adams laughed. "It's _my _turn to joke, Kingsley! Consider it payback for all the times you've referred to me as Mortisha Addams." He seemed to recollect that he had an audience, who were all watching him with thinly veiled amusement. Dr. Adams turned slightly red and cleared his throat.

"Our only lead," he continued, more subdued, "is the way the numbers of the Dementors decreased drastically after the defeat of the Dark Lord. So this could take a while."

"If there's any way the Ministry can help you, Mortimer, our resources are at your disposal." Kingsley looked around the room. "If there are no further questions, meeting adjourned."

Draco began keeping his notes as the others left. "Dr. Adams," he began, "do you think we should collaborate with the Department of Mysteries?"

"Bah," the temperamental scientist said scornfully. "The Department of Mysteries? What do they know? They don't study Dementors, they study less serious things, less significant things. Death. What does Death matter to the dead? Everyone will die. Time. As long as time goes forward, why do we need to play with it? Thought. Perhaps the only thing worth studying, how we think, how we remember. Prophecies! I can't believe the Ministry believes such drivel. _Love._ Who cares what love is, as long as they're in love?"

His protégé wasn't fazed, used to Mortimer's dramatic soliloquies. "Sir, don't you think love is one way to battle the Dementors?"

"The way to battle Dementors is through magic!" Dr. Adams declared. Then he paused, perhaps remembering his own philosophy of never discounting a possible solution. He sighed. "Very well. But research more on love before you go to the Ministry- Merlin forbid that you look like a bumbling idiot in front of them."


	2. Chapter 2

A slightly longer chapter. :) Posting this a bit sooner than we had envisioned at first, because searching through our archives, we've found another fic that we're excited to post! One at a time first, though! :D Thanks to those who've reviewed!

**Chapter 2**

There were some days where Draco felt like he was drowning in despair, and no one around him seemed to notice. His parents were in Azkaban and his Hogwarts friends had all but faded from his life after the war. The only person he had regular contact with was Dr. Adams, who wasn't exactly a ray of sunshine himself.

Draco sighed and glanced out the window of the coffee shop he was sitting in. He wondered if he'd be stuck researching Dementors for the rest of his life. It wasn't as if anyone else would employ him. The Malfoy fortune had been depleted so much that Draco wouldn't have been able to live at the same level of comfort that he was used to unless he supplemented it by working. Dr. Adams, although not the most friendly person, was quite generous when it came to paying Draco.

A familiar voice interrupted Draco's musings. "Malfoy?"

Draco looked up, and his jaw dropped with recognition. "Great Merlin, _Granger?_" His face burned. He hadn't seen her since saving her from Goyle about a year ago, and now she just had to come across him at a Muggle coffee shop.

She beamed and nodded, brushing her unruly hair away from her face. "I thought you looked like you could use a hot chocolate," she said, pushing one towards him. "I wanted one myself," she held up her own cup, "and I saw you sitting here and I thought I might buy you one."

More surprised than ever, Draco took the cup. "I don't think- Granger, why-"

Hermione shrugged. "You save my life, I buy you chocolate." She smiled at his bemused expression. "Honestly? I saw you sitting here, looking rather down. I remembered hearing that you're researching Dementors, which is enough to make anyone depressed, and I figured chocolate would do you good."

"Thanks," he muttered, blowing on the chocolate to cool it down. He figured he would never understand Hermione Granger. "I er, haven't seen you in a while."

"I went back to Hogwarts, did my seventh year. Just started a job at the Ministry, actually. That's how I heard you were studying Dementors, my boss attended the meeting you and Dr. Adams gave."

"Ah. Are you an Auror?" Draco took a sip of his drink, smiling slightly as the sweet liquid lifted his mood.

Hermione snorted. "No. After my abysmal OWL in Defense Against the Dark Arts-"

"Abysmal?" Draco asked skeptically. "You mean, not an O?"

A blush rose on her cheeks. "Well, not quite the score I was hoping to get. Anyway, I decided to give up fighting dark wizards. I'm an Unspeakable," she said proudly.

"A fellow researcher, then." He raised his mug in a toast. "I suppose you can't tell me what you're researching."

She shook her head. "Classified information. But I am keen to hear about your Dementor findings, if you don't mind. I wasn't able to go to the meeting and my boss didn't give any details."

Draco hesitated. He wasn't sure how much he could actually tell her, and whether he even wanted to or not. She was Hermione Granger, her brain power might prove useful in the future. But she was Hermione Granger, and he didn't exactly like her, as he reminded himself right that moment. It was hard, however, to dislike someone who has just given you hot chocolate.

"_Muffliato_." He made his choice. He would share the basics with her; after all, how often does one get to tell Hermione Granger about something she doesn't already know? "Dr. Adams and I have been recording the Dementor population. Dr. Adams has developed this charm that allows us to sort of track them."

It was magic Hermione had never heard of before, so she was enthralled by Draco's description of his research. He spoke for some time, with her asking questions whenever she wanted more details, and eventually he concluded by saying that he was sure the answer had something to do with how Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord.

"That's plausible," Hermione frowned thoughtfully. "I suppose your first step would be to talk to Harry about it."

"I'm not talking to Potter," Draco objected.

"He's the only one who knows exactly what happened," she pointed out. "Dumbledore explained it to him, why he was protected by his mother's love, and how Harry's love protected us all from Voldemort. You could also try talking to Dumbledore's portrait at Hogwarts."

He grimaced. "Bet the old man never wants to see me again."

"I bet he really does want to see you."

"I can't go back to Hogwarts. Not after... everything."

Hermione shrugged. "You don't have to. I'm just giving suggestions."

"Yeah, well." _Maybe I don't need your suggestions,_ Draco thought, turning his head to gaze outside the window. A lady had occupied the seat just outside, so that their table was separated from hers by a pane of glass. As Draco watched, the lady brought out a lighter and flicked it. Draco yelped and stood up, moving quickly around the table, putting as much distance between him and the woman as he could.

"What?" Hermione asked, immediately scanning the area for danger. "What is it?"

"That woman," he pointed a shaking finger at the lady outside who was oblivious to the distress she was causing, "she had a- a thing in her hand, she made fire, and she brought the fire to her face." His voice was high and panicky, and he was thankful for the _muffliato_ he had cast earlier, preventing the other cafe-goers from realizing anything was wrong.

"She just lit her cigarette," Hermione said, looking at the woman. "It must have been a lighter she was holding. Have you not seen one before?"

Draco shook his head. His skin was clammy, and he was starting to sweat. "But she brought the flame to her face," he insisted. "Isn't it dangerous?"

"Not really." She studied him closely. "Are you all right? Maybe you should sit down again."

Still shaking, he perched on the edge of his seat, not taking his eyes off the woman in case she whipped out another flame. He knew he was being stupid, and he cursed himself for reacting that way, in front of Granger, one of the Golden Trio. It was inexcusable behaviour. "Sorry," he muttered, wishing he had something more alcoholic than an empty coffee mug and the last of his hot chocolate in front of him. He finally looked away from the woman and stared at the table. "I overreacted."

Hermione pushed a glass of water towards him- he had no idea where she had gotten it- and patted his hand, which was still fisted tensely on the table. His fingers were ice cold. "Malfoy, maybe-"

"I need to go home," he interrupted, gulping down some of the refreshingly cold water before standing up. His legs still felt weak, but they would support him. "Thank you for the chocolate." He looked at her imploringly and she nodded; she wouldn't tell anyone about what had just happened.

It took Draco several minutes of walking before he had gotten himself fully under control; his face burned with shame at what Hermione had just witnessed. He cursed the Muggle for lighting a cigarette beside him. _Why can't they use electricity to light a cigarette?_ he thought angrily. _They use it for everything else_.

Two days later, Draco Apparated to work to find Dr. Adams in a towering rage. Word about their findings on Dementors had leaked into the public, causing mass panic. Suddenly people were seeing Dementors everywhere.

"Which part of 'confidential' do those Ministry morons not understand?" he yelled, knocking over the pile of letters from concerned citizens that Draco had just carefully stacked. His protégé looked up from the letters from Ministry officials that he was sorting out.

"Er, Sir, I don't think you actually told them it was confidential," he said, thinking guiltily of the information he had shared with Hermione two days prior.

"Well it should have been understood, shouldn't it? Otherwise it would create a mess- and that's exactly what's happened!" Dr. Adams exploded. "The public is panicking. They didn't need to find out about the Dementors, that's why Kingsley- the ever incompetent Kingsley!- was going to round them up. We could have captured them and contained them, and the public could have found out after."

Draco shook his head. "I think the public has a right to know. A certain amount of awareness, of caution, wouldn't go amiss. But the Ministry should have released a controlled statement instead of blabbing to the Daily Prophet."

"Exactly! You understand!" The distressed doctor leaned on the table, shaking his head in despair. Draco rather thought his mentor was overreacting, but he didn't say anything. "We haven't yet figured out how to destroy them. No one believes it's possible to destroy them, but just because it hasn't been done doesn't mean it can't be done. I've already figured out how to contain them," he continued, dropping his voice and speaking more to himself. "No one thought _that_ was possible either. Once Kingsley finds a place to put them, where they won't be able to breed- Merlin knows how hard it is to find a spot of sunlight in Britain- we can keep them away from positive energy, and reduce their strength."

"If they do starve," Draco spoke up, "won't they go crazy? Starved animals go frantic."

"My spell will hold them," Dr. Adams disregarded arrogantly. "If we're lucky, they might even eat each other. The problem _was_, no one had tried it before. No one thought it was possible to contain Dementors. The Ministry made a pact with them, an agreement, that they would guard Azkaban. The Dark Lord usurped that agreement and offered them a better one. No one thought to contain them, or to destroy them. People thought we had to live with them, but I say we don't. We _shouldn't_ have to."

Draco nodded along, setting aside the stack of letters. He knew how the rest of the speech would go- Dr. Adams described in great detail just how he created the spell to contain Dementors, which Draco knew by heart as he had helped develop the spell- so he interrupted Dr. Adams before the waterworks could start. "So what should we do about these letters?"

"What?" Dr. Adams looked at him, distracted. "Oh. Floo Kinglsey. Tell him to deal with it, and deal with it properly this time, by issuing a press release saying the Ministry has it under control. Tell him to have a Floo point so people can report Dementor sightings; that person can then tell me and you and I will go and capture ourselves a Dementor-"

"I don't think we can do it ourselves, Dr. Adams. If people are seeing Dementors everywhere- even if they're just making it up- we don't have time to check out every single call. I think we should teach the Aurors how to cast the Web."

Dr. Adams frowned. "What? But then they'll know how to..." he trailed off, obviously fighting with the impulse to keep his knowledge to himself. "All right," he sighed. "It's for the best. Set up an appointment with Kingsley, you can teach the Aurors how to cast."

"Me?" Draco asked, surprised.

"I don't have time to do it myself," Dr. Adams said. "I have to discover how to destroy Dementors. Anything that can be created can be destroyed..." he began muttering to himself, leaving Draco to speak to the Ministry. Deciding it was best to see Kingsley himself, Draco Disapparated.

Later that afternoon, Draco had finished teaching the Aurors how to set up the Web of Light, as his extremely creative mentor had dubbed it. There were several complicated runes that needed to be written into the ground, in a circle. The Aurors then had to use their Patronuses to herd the Dementors into the circle, and one person would activate the runes and close the web. As the energy to maintain the web was given by the earth, the web lasted for as long as necessary, until the caster terminated the spell.

"Potter, can I speak to you for a bit?" Draco asked.

Harry looked surprised. "Sure."

"I wanted to ask you about how you defeated the Dark Lord. I think that- that _love_ could help us destroy the Dementors, and er, Granger told me you knew a lot about it." Draco decided he might as well bring up Hermione; perhaps it would make Harry more willing to share information.

"Oh. That." To Draco's surprise, Harry seemed less than enthusiastic at the prospect of reliving what many considered to be one of the most glorious days of his life.

"Yeah. That."

Harry frowned. "What do you want to know?"

Exasperated, Draco felt like Harry wasn't being any help. "How did you use love to defeat the Dark Lord?"

"I didn't consciously use it, if that's what you're wondering. Dumbledore said it was Voldemort's weakness, because he underestimated it. He never bothered to understand it. But Malfoy," Harry began, voicing a niggling doubt, "don't Dementors feed on positive energy? Won't they feed on love?"

Draco shrugged. "We don't know yet. But my theory is that love is... is more tangible or more concrete than happiness. It's different, you know? I think love is more than a positive energy. Love might be more..."

"Pure, or something?"

"Yeah."

"You know, Malfoy, that makes sense," Harry said. "Voldemort tried to possess me, but he couldn't, it caused him pain. Dumbledore said it was because Voldemort was too corrupt, too ruined, whereas I was... pure."

"And Dementors are some of the foulest creatures on earth. Merlin, Potter, I wonder what would happen if one tried to Kiss you. They probably wouldn't be able to touch you."

Harry shot him a dirty look. "You know full well what Dementors can do to me, Malfoy. You took advantage of it before."

Draco looked embarrassed. "We were 13, Potter. Can't you let it go?"

"I already have." Harry smirked slightly; he had evidently just been teasing Draco. "No matter what Hermione says, I like to think I've matured a little. Look, do you want to come to my office? We can talk there, I'll tell you everything Dumbledore said."

Draco left Harry's office 20 minutes later with a little more respect for the bespectacled saviour- he didn't just _act_ good, he _was_ good. It was annoying, really. More than annoying, it was depressing. How could some people be so good and righteous and others be downright evil?

It was only half past three, so Draco decided to visit the Department of Mysteries while he was at the Ministry. He was shown to the office of the Department Head, Magdalena MacLeod. She reminded him of Professor McGonagall, so much that Draco thought they might be sisters. Dr. MacLeod was interested in the idea that love, the purest energy there was, could destroy the foulest creatures on earth.

"As you're not an Unspeakable, I shall assign an Unspeakable to work with you; she shall supervise you while you're inside the department, just to make sure you don't enter our other research areas. She's relatively new, but has just been taught everything the department knows about love, so I'm sure you two will be able to find answers together." Dr. Macleod stood up and motioned for Draco to follow her. Draco complied, a feeling of dread settling into his stomach. He had an idea of who Dr. MacLeod was thinking about, and he wasn't sure if they could actually work together. His fears were confirmed when Dr. MacLeod spoke again.

"How well do you know Ms. Hermione Granger? You two went to Hogwarts together, I believe." She led him down the corridor.

"Yes, we were in the same year. But we didn't really get along," Draco said, recognizing his opportunity to be assigned with someone else. "So..."

"Why didn't you get along?"

_Where to begin?_ he wondered, thinking of all the possible reasons- his friends and her friends, her upbringing and his upbringing, her bossiness, tendency to nag, and overall know-it-all-ness. "We're too different, I guess."

"Or perhaps too similar," MacLeod said thoughtfully. "Look, Mr. Malfoy- and I tell this to everyone who enters this department, so don't think I'm treating you differently. We are no longer in Hogwarts. There is no Slytherin or Gryffindor, there are no houses. Great minds think alike- they may have different opinions, but great minds respect others' opinions. _That_'s why Mortimer isn't working at the Ministry," she added, more to herself. She raised her voice again. "Do you understand, Mr. Malfoy? We are working towards a common goal and to do that we use our differences to our advantage."

"Yes, Dr. MacLeod." Inwardly, Draco was groaning. There was no way he'd be able to work with know-it-all Granger. A cup of hot chocolate was bearable, it was fine. Short, and with a definite end in sight. But to work with her... she was so overbearing he wondered how Potter and Weasley had managed, all those years.

"Good. This is her office." She shot Draco a look reminiscent of McGonagall and knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Dr. MacLeod opened the door, and Hermione stood up when she saw her superior. "Good afternoon, Hermione."

"Good afternoon, Maggie. What-" Hermione trailed off as she saw Draco standing behind her boss. "Hello, Malfoy."

"Mr. Malfoy is working on research to find out if love can be used to destroy Dementors," Dr. MacLeod explained. "I've decided that you can assist him, being one of our Unspeakables on love."

"All right." Hermione smiled, looking, in Draco's opinion, a bit too enthusiastic.

"Good, it's settled. This is not strictly Ministry business, Hermione, so carry on with your original project, but prioritize Mr. Malfoy."

"Yes, Maggie."

"All right, I'll leave you to it." MacLeod gave them both a tight smile and returned to her own office.

Draco closed Hermione's door and slumped against it. "You didn't tell me you were working with love."

She shrugged. "I couldn't. But I was hoping you'd come to the department, and that I'd be able to work with you on Dementors, so I've already compiled some notes for you to read, to give you a broad understanding of what we already know about love." Hermione took out a thick roll of parchment and held it out to Draco. He didn't take it.

"This is what I was afraid of," he groaned.

"What?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Do you have to be such an overachiever? Do you have to research assignments before they're given, take over projects that aren't even _yours_?"

She looked taken aback by his outburst. "Malfoy, I'm just trying to help-"

"No, you're trying to make this _your_ project."

"I'm not! I just find your research fascinating and-"

"Dementors aren't _fascinating_, they're repulsive, so cut the crap, Granger, and shut-" Draco never noticed Hermione get out of her seat and reach for her wand. He broke off when he felt it pressing against his neck. "What the fuck is that for?"

Hermione seethed. "Malfoy, you are out of line." Her voice was low and dangerous, and she was breathing heavily with the obvious effort of restraining her temper. "You want to collaborate with the department, and when I give you notes that will assist you, you accuse me of trying to outshine you. I may have been over-eager to help, I can see that it might not be appreciated, but don't you dare accuse me of taking over your project because that is just so petty and _immature!_ Now. Since you're being so irrational, I am going to step outside for two minutes and if you leave this room you will be sorry."

With a final glare, Hermione stormed out of the room. Draco rubbed his neck and grimaced. _Irrational_. She was the one being unreasonable. He had no intention of leaving her office, since he planned on continuing the argument when she returned. He waited for what felt like ages, until he finally heard her outside the door. After a few seconds of waiting for her to enter, he lost his patience.

"What took you so long?" he snapped, throwing open the door.

She looked up at him, one mug of hot chocolate in each hand. "Sorry, couldn't turn the handle," she said, handing him a cup. Draco took it, confused. "I think we both need a pick-me-up. So, cheers." Hermione raised her glass in a toast, and took a small sip.

"I'm not thirsty, or hungry, or in the mood for this."

"Drink it anyway, I guarantee you'll feel better after it."

"I feel fine," Draco said, eying the mug suspiciously. "What did you put in it?"

"Cocoa powder and milk. Honestly, Malfoy," Hermione snapped, getting impatient, "if I wanted to hurt you, I'd have done so with my wand a few minutes ago. Drink it, or I'll make you drink it."

Reluctantly, he brought the mug to his face and sniffed. It smelled, well, like hot chocolate should smell. Tentatively, he brought it to his lips and drank a bit. He waited for a few seconds, and when nothing happened, decided to relax his guard.

"Told you." She sat down at her desk and motioned for him to take a seat opposite her.

"You can't blame me for being cautious."

"No, I suppose I can't." She drank some more, and then sighed. "I apologize if my eagerness to help with your project was annoying. I just really thought it would make things easier for you, and speed things along."

Draco shrugged. "It's alright." After half a mug of cocoa, he was really feeling much more relaxed about everything. He thought that perhaps Granger had put in some Calming Draught or a Cheering Potion. He downed another gulp, and when he lowered his hand he saw her staring at him pointedly. "What?"

She merely raised an eyebrow at him in reply.

He scowled, catching her meaning. Taking a sip of his drink and a deep breath for courage, he said "I apologize for suggesting that you were trying to usurp my project, and for my foul language."

"Apology accepted. Now, we can do this in one of two ways, your choice. You can either accept my notes, read through them, and we'll discuss the combination of our research, or you do your own research on love."

"That doesn't sound like a choice. This isn't a potions project at Hogwarts, this is important."

"I know. I just wanted to make sure you realize that you don't have to work with me if you don't want to. I'll give you all the resources you need, and I'll help you if you ask for it, but we'll be starting from scratch."

Draco exhaled loudly. "Fine. Give me your notes."

"Wait, one last thing. Since we're agreeing to work together on this, we have to really make an effort to work _together_. It's not just about fact-finding or discussing theories, we have to respect each other's opinions, and try to control our tempers, but we should also be honest and give constructive criticism on the other's work."

"Fair enough," he conceded. "So no wand pointing?"

She grinned sheepishly. "No wand pointing. And no wandless magic."

"Right." He finished off his drink and looked at her, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. "You said something about honesty, right?"

"Yes."

"In that case, I suppose I have to warn you before you leave for home, that you've got a chocolate milk moustache."

"Oops." She wiped it off hastily, a slightly pink tinge to her cheeks. "Anyway, here are my notes."

Draco took the rolls of parchment from her and glanced at his watch. It was just before five. "I'll read these tonight, then I'll probably be here tomorrow afternoon. I'll bring some of my notes on the Dementors as well."

"Okay." She took his cup from him and scourgified both of theirs. "To be honest, there's not a lot known about the locked room. The records weren't well kept, and I think a number were destroyed in the fire of 1619. No one even seems to know how to open the door."

"You mean no one's opened it in almost four hundred years?"

"No- well, it's possible that the secret died in the fire, or that no one in living memory has opened it, but that the records exist, they're just lost somewhere. If it's just lost, I think I can find it."

Draco chuckled as he stood, preparing to depart. "If anyone can find it, Granger, it's probably you."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: A new chapter! :D Yay. Not overly long, but the next one will be up within a few days anyway. :) Thanks to those who have reviewed, favorited, and are following the fic! :)

Also, the seconding phase at the Dramione Awards has started! Forgettable Vows was nominated for 2 categories. We need some votes before making it to the final round, though. Now, we're not here to beg for votes (or seconds, whatever they're called), because we're well aware that FV is up against some of our favorite fics. But, it would be great if you guys could go over and vote (not necessarily for FV, but for other wonderful fics too! If you're looking for great fics to read, it's a good place to start). http:// community. livejournal . com/ dramione_awards/43232 . html (just remove the spaces). :)

**Chapter 3**

"I went to the Department of Mysteries yesterday," Draco told Dr. Adams the next morning.

"I know, MacLeod owled me. So you really think the answer is love?"

"Yes, sir." Draco sat at his desk and took out Hermione's notes. "I interviewed Harry Potter yesterday, and he seemed to agree- Love is just so pure that impure things are no match for it. And Hermione Granger, from the Department of Mysteries, gave me her notes on love. I've been reading it, I really think it might work."

Dr. Adams nodded. "Good. I checked on the Dementor. It appears to be weaker, that is, it doesn't seem to move around so much. But it's still roughly the same size. I think starving it really does help."

Draco was always taken aback by the flippant way in which Dr. Adams spoke about the Dementor, almost as if they were keeping it as a pet, not a prisoner. He supposed Dr. Adams saw it as a specimen, whereas Draco saw it as an enemy.

"That's good to know," he said. "I was thinking of visiting Granger at the Ministry, there are some points in her notes I'd like to go over." He wasn't keen on staying in a building with a Dementor, not now that there was a place to escape to.

"That's fine. Go and do what you wish, just keep me informed of where you are. We might have to transport some Dementors soon, the Aurors have gotten several calls about sightings."

"Yes sir." Draco glanced at the clock. It was just past nine; he decided to give Hermione a few more hours to do her own work before he interrupted her.

Later that morning, he tapped on Hermione's door. "Hey Granger, I've got a question."

"Hello to you too, Malfoy." Hermione looked up from her work. "Come in."

Draco rolled his eyes. "_Hi_." He sauntered in and sat down across from her. "What exactly is in the love room? What form is love? I mean, when we open the door, is it... gas? Energy? Liquid?"

"It's non-matter."

"Yeah, that's all it ever says in your notes. Explain." At her pointed glance, Draco sighed dramatically. "_Please_."

"Well, matter is solid, liquid, gas, plasma- anything that takes up space and has mass. Love _exists_, but it doesn't occupy space or have mass. Therefore, it's non-matter."

"All right." He thought it over for a moment. "That makes sense, I suppose. Tell me something, Granger, does hate exist? Is it non-matter also, or the absence of love?"

Hermione looked impressed at his questions. "It's more the absence of love. It's not as... concrete as love. Hate is more a conglomerate of other feelings like resentment, dislike, irritation and annoyance."

"So you mean when I thought I hated you, I actually just resented, disliked, was irritated and annoyed at you?"

"And envied me," she added with a grin.

He snorted. "Yeah, like that ever happened. So you're telling me Potter and the Dark Lord merely resented, disliked, blah blah blah, each other?"

"Of course not, don't be silly. Hate is real enough, and they did hate each other. But it's a feeling, like happiness. Love is much stronger than that."

They debated and discussed for the next hour and a half before Hermione suggested they continue their discussion over lunch at the Ministry food hall. Draco agreed, and they headed there together.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, noticing Hermione fidget as they ate.

"Everyone's staring," she whispered.

"That's because of me. The big bad Malfoy."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. I think they're trying to figure out which one of us will hex each other first."

"Potter and Weasley aren't going to show up, are they? That would be unfair," he joked.

"No, they're conveniently off on assignment. I think they're rounding up Dementors in Salisbury."

Just then, a pretty brunette approached them. "Hey, Hermione! How are you?" She glanced interestedly at Draco.

"I'm fine, Becky, how are you?" Hermione smiled pleasantly at the girl.

"Busy. You know. The usual." Becky looked at Draco. "I don't believe we've met."

"Oh, how rude of me!" Hermione smacked her hand on her forehead. "Becky Blakely, from Improper Use of Magic, and Draco Malfoy, who's working with me on some research."

Becky's face changed from interested to disgusted. "_Malfoy_?"

Hermione frowned. "His name is Draco."

Draco interrupted, annoyed at Hermione having to defend him. "Listen, Blakely. Whether or not my name is Malfoy is irrelevant, because I wouldn't date you in a million years. So please. Let Hermione and I get back to our discussion."

Becky gaped at him. "Like I would date _you_-"

"Well, we both know I was the only reason you came to talk to Hermione today. Now leave, before I lose my temper."

Becky stormed away, leaving Hermione glaring incredulously at Draco. "You were so rude!"

He shrugged. "She deserved it. _Malfoy_?" he sneered, mimicking Becky. "Merlin. And honestly, Granger. She did try to flirt with me."

"Maybe she did, but that doesn't make your behaviour pardonable." She spluttered, at a loss for words. "Malfoy, I know it's not your fault that no one will hire you, but perhaps if you worked on your people skills more you'd make more friends! Maybe people would actually like you!"

"And what would you know about it, Granger? Everything falls into place for you, you're Potter's sidekick. You probably got tons of job offers, whereas I got tons of rejections, simply because of who you are and who I am. Now you've got loads of 'friends' like Blakely who like you because you're famous. You don't have to work for it. You don't know what it's like to be shunned."

"Yes, I do. I may have only been twelve at the time, Malfoy, but I remember it like it was yesterday." Her voice was icy. "I may not know what it's like to be declined a job simply because of who I am, but I know what it's like to have no one want to sit beside me because of my blood. And imagine what it's like to be offered a job, and once you've begun it everyone tells you you're no good at it and you don't belong in the company. Can you imagine it, Malfoy? Because _that's_ how I felt when I went to Hogwarts, and people like _you_ kept telling me I wasn't good enough."

Draco stared at her, unwilling to admit that she might be right. "That's completely different. I was only eleven! A kid!"

"So was I! And in some ways that made it worse! I didn't know anything about child psychology, all I knew was that I wasn't good enough! So of course I had to make myself good enough."

"Well, you proved your point, didn't you, Granger? Some might argue that you were _better_, all right?" He took a deep, calming breath. He hadn't realized how deep those old wounds were. To his consternation, he saw that Hermione had tears in her eyes. "Look, maybe we should move on. Put it behind us."

"I think that's a good idea." She smiled shakily. "It shouldn't even matter, after... I mean, don't think I held a grudge on you, or anything. It just sort of came out. Especially after you saved me from Goyle, I knew I had to re-evaluate my opinion of you."

"You made me re-evaluate my opinion about... lots of things," Draco admitted. "For the record, I don't have a grudge on you either. But you can be bloody annoying sometimes."

"I think that's one characteristic we both share."

They ate the rest of their meal in silence, and then Draco suggested they get back to work. "I had no idea there were so many different levels and kinds of love," he said, as they made their way back to her office. "It'll take a while to figure out which one is the best kind. I wonder what kind is in the locked room? Or do they have everything in there?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'm inclined to think they have every kind of love in there, but I can't say for sure."

Draco sighed. "This'll take forever."

Draco and Hermione spent the next few days discussing the possibilities of love. Draco noticed that his mood improved the less time he spent at Dr. Adam's research lab. It was liberating, he hadn't realized how much of an effect the Dementor was having on him. Not only did he and Hermione fight less, he even slept better. And he was surprised to find that Hermione wasn't as annoying as he had supposed. Yes, she was still a know-it-all, but she didn't flaunt it as much as he thought she would. Having her brain to pick was a big help.

"I'd like to see the Web," Hermione said one day. "I was thinking maybe I could go to your lab and observe the Dementor you have there?"

"Sure," he shrugged. "I'll ask Dr. Adams about it."

She smiled. "Thanks."

The next day, Draco took Hermione to his lab.

"Dr. Adams, this is Hermione Granger."

The scientist shook her hand. "Ms. Granger. It's a pleasure to meet you at last. Draco speaks highly of you."

"Does he?" Hermione shot a wry grin at Draco.

"Well, he speaks of you, at least. Please, sit!" He ushered her to a chair. "I understand you're here to discuss the Dementor we have? Vile creature," he said proudly. "Difficult to catch! But my Web of Light is, of course, unbreakable."

"About that, sir, I understand that it's made of Light magic?"

Draco rolled his eyes as Dr. Adams launched into a detailed description of his Web of Light. If anyone would be able to understand him, it would be Hermione, of course; but having heard it a thousand times didn't make it any more understandable to Draco, even though he had helped create it. He waited patiently until Hermione had finished talking to his mentor. She looked almost out of place in the lab, he thought; it might have been the smile on her face that looked so odd, because he and Dr. Adams rarely smiled. There was simply nothing to smile about, with a Dementor in a cage in the basement.

It was more than half an hour later when Hermione finally reluctantly ended her discussion with Dr. Adams and suggested they go and see the creature. Draco, who had found himself watching her closely, wondered if she was hesitant, perhaps scared, to come face to face with the embodiment of darkness.

"Can we cast Patronuses while we're down with it? I don't want to be overcome with despair when we're there," Hermione said, as they made their way down the stairs.

Dr. Adams shrugged. "The Web keeps most of the powers of the Dementor away; you might feel a little sad but it cannot feed on your positive emotions as it would if it were free. Draco seems to be more affected by it than I am. You could have stayed upstairs, you know, Draco," he said to the boy behind him.

"I know," Draco replied. But he had wanted to keep an eye on Hermione; Dr. Adams sometimes got carried away and didn't notice the discomfort of his companions. Until he could be sure Hermione wouldn't be strongly affected by the Dementor, Draco wasn't letting her go without him.

"If you want to cast a Patronus, you may; however, this might excite the Dementor. The Patronus does not destroy Dementors, not even when they are in a cage such as this one. Believe me, it was the first thing I tried."

They reached the bottom, and Dr. Adams unlocked the door. "Stay out here, Draco."

Slightly relieved that he didn't have to go in, Draco leaned against the door, anxiously watching Hermione. She seemed pale and a little frightened, but he knew the expression on her face- courage.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" Dr. Adams asked. The only light in the room came from Dr. Adams' chimp Patronus and the Web of Light, which was glowing brightly; strands of interwoven light. The Dementor inside drew near the edge of the cage, approaching them. The room smelled of death and decay, the odour of Dementors.

"It isn't averse to the Web of Light, unlike the way it runs from a Patronus?" Hermione asked.

"I think it became accustomed to it, or too weak to fight it. It doesn't like touching the Web."

"Why is it so dark in here? Can't we light torches?"

"All the light goes out in a Dementor's presence."

Hermione frowned thoughtfully. "Have you tried using fire to destroy it?"

"History is littered with accounts of people trying to use fire against Dementors. It doesn't work. Dementors extinguish fire, not the other way around."

"What about Goblin-made weapons? The sword of Gryffindor?"

Dr. Adams blinked. "Goblin-made weapons?"

"Yes. It's what we used to destroy the Horcruxes, pieces of Voldemort's soul. Or we could try Basilisk venom. It's worth a shot."

Draco shivered as she spoke; the room seemed to have gotten even colder.

"Calm down, Ms. Granger, the Dementor is getting agitated." Dr. Adams glanced at the creature, which was moving around in the Web. "It is worth a shot," he repeated, agreeing.

Draco closed his eyes, feeling the chill creeping into him. Goblin-wrought metals were powerful, but at this point he doubted anything would work. Hermione had suggested fire; not even Fiendfyre, which had killed Crabbe, had any effect on the Dementor. In his mind's eye Draco could see other people on fire; victims the Dark Lord had set alight as a method of amusement and torture...

"_Expecto patronum_!"

Draco opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Hermione's otter Patronus gliding near the Web; immediately the room felt warmer and slightly cheerier. His face burned, and he felt embarrassed. "Sorry," he muttered, seeing Dr. Adams' disappointed gaze.

"Let's go back upstairs," Hermione suggested, looking pale. "The Dementor's starting to affect me, too."

"It always affects you so strongly, Draco," Dr. Adams mused as he locked the door and led the way up the stairs. "I wonder why that is."

"Draco has strong negative memories," Hermione explained. Both men turned to look at her. "It's why Harry was so affected by Dementors. His past is darker than ours was. I think, Dr. Adams, you've had a relatively trouble-free past, whereas Draco lived under the same roof as Voldemort. The very thought is horrifying."

Draco couldn't believe the answer was as simple as that. He had never bothered to wonder why Potter had always been so affected by the Dementors, but it made sense. It was strange that, with all the knowledge he and Dr. Adams had accumulated about Dementors, they hadn't figured out the answer to that simple question. Perhaps they were focusing too much on the Dementors themselves, and not on their victims.

Once they were back in the main office/laboratory, Dr. Adams settled behind his desk. Hermione shot him an incredulous look, and turned to Draco. "Do you have any chocolate around here?"

"We've got hot chocolate in the pantry, I'll help you make it." Draco led her to a small kitchenette and took out two mugs. Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

"How self-absorbed is he?" she hissed. "He's the only one not affected by the Dementors, so he doesn't care enough to think about giving us chocolate!"

Draco sighed, heating up the milk with his wand. "He's never truly been affected by them. He doesn't know what it's like, and with the Dementor behind the Web he probably felt nothing other than a slight chill."

"He should be more responsible," Hermione insisted disapprovingly. She watched as Draco measured out the required amount of chocolate. "Does he not drink chocolate?"

"Not unless he has to."

She accepted her mug from him with a soft 'tuh' of disapproval and returned to the office.

Draco blew on his hot chocolate and smiled- it was nice to have someone on his side, for once.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed! :D We'll reply to the reviews soon. :D

**Chapter 4**

A few days later Draco had shifted his focus from deciphering love to understanding the locked room in the Department of Mysteries.

"Granger, do you know if the power in the locked room was harnessed in anyway before they lost the key to opening it?"

Hermione looked up from the papers she was poring over. "My understanding is that the power of love was supposedly stored there only for academic purposes, for study. I believe they didn't wish to use it since they didn't understand it. But I haven't looked through all the papers in Archives."

"Do you think we can go and get more?"

"Don't you think we have more than enough here?"

"Let's just get all of them and bring them here. It saves us future trips, and no one uses them anyway, right?"

After a few seconds of deliberation, she set down her quill. "Fine. Let's go."

They made their way to the Archives of the Department of Mysteries, a dark, musty and dusty old room that was probably less than half the size of the Hogwarts Library but near over-flowing with parchment and books. "It should be in that area somewhere," Hermione said, pointing to a corner at the far back.

Draco looked around the room and shuddered. There were a few wall sconces, each carrying a torch. The mere thought of some fire in a room of dry old papers was enough to send his heart racing.

"Are you alright?"

He turned to look at Hermione, who was looking back at him curiously. "Isn't it dangerous having these torches so close to all this paper? The room could go up in flames!"

"I'm pretty sure these documents are fire-resistant. After the fire of 1619, it was a precaution. Also, the flames themselves are confined to the sconces. Now come on, I want to get out of here."

Draco swallowed hard and inched into the room behind Hermione. He decided to stay as close to the door as possible, in case a hasty exit was needed. He lit his wand so he could see the titles of the books near him, but they all seemed to be about death. None seemed like they would be useful in their search, except perhaps one called _A Study Of Death & Powers That Conquer It_. Draco deliberated for a few minutes whether or not it would be helpful, but was distracted by Hermione calling him.

"They're over here, Malfoy!"

"I think there's a book here that might help, not so sure," he called back. "I'll get it anyway, we can read it upstairs."

"There's a box of things here that might be worth reading. And more on the shelves." She set about levitating rolls of parchment into a box. "I do wish you'd help more, Mal-" She abruptly stopped speaking, and Draco looked up with her. A middle-aged woman appeared to be making her way over to Hermione. Draco would have shrugged it off as a Ministry colleague except that Hermione appeared to have frozen up.

"Granger?" he called. Both women ignored him. From what he could see of Hermione's face, her eyes were wide and brimming with tears. The woman was talking to her, but Draco couldn't make out any words.

Cursing under his breath, he cast a wary glance at the wall sconces and then crossed over to where Hermione was. She hadn't moved, but the tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

"-can't believe you did this to me! You, Hermione, you did this to us!" the woman was saying. She had a crazed look in her eye, but Draco thought she looked rather like Hermione, that perhaps he was staring at the future Hermione. It was entirely possible, since magic could make stranger things happen.

"What's going on?" he asked as he approached.

Hermione finally seemed to snap out of whatever daze she was in and raised her wand. "_Riddikulus_," she said, her voice coming out in a squeak.

The Boggart, which, now that Draco thought about it, made a hell of a lot more sense than a visit from the future, disappeared with a crack. Hermione seemed to sag with relief, and leaned against the shelves behind her. She was sobbing loudly, her wand slipping from nerveless fingers.

Draco bent down to pick it up. "Granger." No response. "Hermione," he said, more firmly, moving closer to her. She shook her head wordlessly, still sobbing into her hands. Draco looked at her, a mixture of pity and helplessness welling up inside him. "Is there anything-"

A movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he turned to see flames flickering over the box of papers in the corner. "Shit!" He turned, ready to run to the exit, when he slipped on a loose piece of parchment and fell to the ground. "No!" he yelled, screaming louder as the fire grew in size. "Granger! Granger, do something!" His heart was beating so fast he thought it would give out, and spots were beginning to cloud his vision. "NO!"

Just before he blacked out, he saw Hermione stepping through the flames, felt her take her wand from his hand, and heard her yell "_Riddikulus_!"

And then there was darkness.

"Malfoy?"

He felt something cold against his neck, trailing down from beneath his ear to his adam's apple.

"Draco?" she whispered again.

With a groan, he opened his eyes, and saw her leaning over him. She moved her arm, and he realized that the cold object against his neck had been her fingers. "Granger. The fire-" he sat up suddenly, his memory coming back to him.

"Boggart," she said, sitting down next to him. Her eyes were puffy, he noticed, and her cheeks still wet. She drew in a shuddering breath. "Are you alright now? Did you hit your head when you fell?"

"I think I just passed out."

"Oh."

"Are you alright?"

His question seemed to shatter the fragile hold she had on her emotions, because she closed her eyes and he saw more tears trail down her cheeks. She shook her head sadly.

Draco let her cry for a few more minutes, then stood up, eager to leave the room behind. The torches were still burning, and he was anxious to get away. He pulled his wand out of his robes. "_Accio_," he said, catching the box as it flew towards him. He charmed it to be feather light, and carried it with one arm. With the other arm he reached down to tap Hermione's shoulder. "Come on, Granger," he said gently, "let's go."

She took his hand and he helped her stand up. They both had clammy fingers, but neither let go of the other. Together, they made their way back to Hermione's office.

"Let's call it a day," Draco suggested, setting the box down. "It's almost time to leave anyway. We can look at these in the morning."

Hermione nodded. "Good idea. Actually, I think I'll take a walk. I don't feel like going home yet. I could do with some fresh air."

Draco hesitated for a moment. He felt that, in a way, he owed her for banishing the Boggart. He also wanted to make sure she was alright. And, for some reason, the thought of spending extra time with her was appealing, instead of annoying. "Would you mind if I joined you? Where do you plan to walk?"

She shrugged, picking up her coat. "I don't know. It doesn't matter."

Draco shrugged into his own coat. "There's a nice park I know, not too far from my place. There are some restaurants nearby too, we can have dinner. If you don't mind, that is."

"You don't live in Malfoy Manor?" she asked, surprised. She locked the office as they left, and then they walked to the Apparation point near the Ministry's atrium.

"No, I have a flat in Camden." He waited for her to comment on the, well, Muggle-ness of the location, but she didn't. He spoke again when they were at the Atrium. "Side-along?" When she nodded, he took her hand in his and Disapparated them. He was glad that her hand wasn't so cold anymore.

As soon as they appeared, hidden by a clump of trees, Hermione took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "That feels good."

"It's not too cold, is it?" Although it was summer, the nights could be chilly.

"It's perfect," she assured him. They started down a path, and Draco realized that they were still holding hands. He debated whether or not to let go, and decided that there was nothing awkward about holding her hand anyway. It wasn't for romance, it was for comfort.

Hermione looked around, and recognized where they were. "Malfoy, when you said park, I didn't think you meant Primrose Hill."

"Why? What's wrong with Primrose Hill?" he asked defensively. "I think it's a pretty good park."

"Nothing, nothing's wrong with it. It's just..." she smiled shyly at him. "It's one of my favourite places in London, that's all. You're so lucky to live near here."

"Oh." He didn't know what else to say. "Yeah, I like it too."

As they walked, they passed some couples walking along the same route, and some families presumably heading home. Both Draco and Hermione were lost in their own thoughts. Draco was curious about the older Hermione he had seen in Archives, but was hesitant to question her about it. His thoughts inevitably turned to what happened after, to the Boggart that had taken the form of fire, and how he had tried to get away and had fallen, and how he had really thought the fire would get him, just like it had gotten Crabbe. He could almost hear Crabbe shouting...

Draco looked up with a start. He hadn't noticed how dark it had become, or how cold. Next to him, Hermione still appeared to be lost in thought, her face twisted into a frown, her eyes moist again.

Draco swallowed hard, his heart thudding in his chest.

Dementor.

He scanned the area, and pulled Hermione to a stop under the next lamp along the path. "I think there's a Dementor around."

Hermione gasped quietly, her breath condensing in front of her mouth. She pulled out her wand, and he did the same. There were no Muggles in sight. "Where is it?"

"I don't know- There!" he saw a dark figure just outside the glow from the park lamp, just before the light flickered and died.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" A silvery white otter shot out of Hermione's wand and straight at the Dementor.

Draco didn't want to wait around to see what would happen. "Come on," he said, tugging on her hand, "let's get out of here. I'll report the sighting tomorrow- no, you'd better do it. Dr. Adams will kill me for not casting the Web. Forget the fact that I didn't have time to write the runes, he'd still expect me to do it."

They half ran to the park's exit, to the brightly lit streets which bustled with activity. Only then did they hide their wands.

"I'm really sorry that happened. I shouldn't have suggested we go there."

"Don't be stupid, you had no way of knowing." She sounded tired, and as he looked at her he saw the strain around her eyes. She was trembling. The day had been too eventful for both of them.

"Let's get something nice and warm to eat," Draco suggested, "and we can take it back to my place. No Boggarts or Dementors there, I swear."

He was rewarded with a faint smile. "What do you have there, then? Just random things that go bump in the night?"

Draco wasn't really sure what she meant, but chuckled anyway. They both were pretending that they weren't shaken up by recent events. "You'll just have to come and find out. So, how about some Italian? I know a place just down the road."

This time, as they walked to the restaurant and then to his flat, he kept his hands to himself.

Once they had gotten settled at the flat, Hermione turned to Draco with a hesitant smile. "Can I ask you a question?"

Draco knew it was inevitable. He sighed. "Go ahead."

"Why do you work for Dr. Adams?"

He blinked. It wasn't the question he had been expecting- after the Boggart turning into flames and a Dementor chasing them and eating take-away at his Muggle flat, Draco had been anticipating a question more relevant to the afternoon's excitement. "He was the only one who would take me."

"I mean, _why_ do you work? You've got a lovely flat," she said, her eyes lingering on his full bookshelves, "and in quite an expensive area. I know you Malfoys still have money."

Draco shrugged. "I like living in luxury. I don't spend needlessly, but I pay for quality. While my family still has some money, it's not enough to keep me living in this level of comfort for the rest of my days. At least, with a job, I'll be able to maintain this lifestyle. Dr. Adams pays quite well. And... I want to work. I'd go crazy if I sat at home all day."

Hermione smiled. "I know the feeling."

They both picked at their pasta, neither of them hungry after the night's events. They made small talk as they nibbled on their food. "So what's it like, working with Dr. Adams?"

"It's okay. The pay is good, like I said, and he's not a bad guy, just not a good one either, I suppose. The work is interesting, in a morbid way, but it hasn't been very rewarding so far. I think that it will be in the future though. The research should directly impact people's lives."

Hermione was quiet for a while, before she spoke hesitantly, "You know, you don't have to punish yourself."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Working with Dementors is horrible. If it's not what you really want to be doing, then it's practically punishment. You shouldn't feel that you deserve it because of things you did in the past."

"Who said I don't really want to be doing it?" Draco asked indignantly. He was angry with her assumption that he was punishing himself- and angry at her for being so perceptive. "You just assume things about people, you think you know everything. I don't think you realize how annoying you are."

Hermione's cheeks flushed- whether in embarrassment or anger, he didn't know. "I'm sorry, but I stand by what I said."

Draco was experiencing a mix of emotions. He was angry, ashamed and guilty that what she had said was true. He was also grateful that someone realized how he felt. Dr. Adams certainly never did. But Draco didn't spend time analyzing his feelings, all he knew was that he didn't want to be the vulnerable one anymore. "Whatever. But while we're talking tell me this- who was that lady the Boggart changed into? Why did you break down like that?"

The effect on Hermione was instantaneous. Her face paled, unshed tears glistened in her eyes, and her lips narrowed into a thin line. She swallowed hard and stared at Draco. "That was my mother. She was- she was-" She covered her face with her hands, unable to continue.

Looking at her, Draco felt horrible. But he also felt vindicated, and rather than dwell on the guilt, he pressed on with more questions. "Why would you be afraid of your mother? And why was she accusing you of something? What was she accusing you of?"

Hermione said nothing at first, her shoulders shaking with her sobs, but then she slowly and brokenly told him all he wanted to know. She told him about modifying her parents' memories, and how it had been the hardest thing she had ever done, harder than fighting at the Final Battle. She confessed that although she and her parents were reunited and on good terms, her greatest fear was that her relationship with them had been damaged subtly but permanently. In every interaction she had with them, she looked for signs that they were harbouring anger, mistrust or disappointment towards her.

"And the more I think about it, the more I'm convinced it was a horrible idea. I changed their lives, I changed their identities, and I did it without telling them. I violated them, in a way."

Draco felt terribly awkward and sorry that he had brought the subject up in such a spiteful way. "Look, Granger, hindsight is perfect vision, right? You had no way of knowing then that their house wouldn't be targeted. And if you had told them, would they have agreed to the plan? If you had died, and they never felt the pain of the loss of a daughter, wouldn't you be glad you had done it? It's all circumstantial. At the time you made what you felt was the best choice, don't regret it now."

Hermione nodded. "I know that. I do. But I don't feel it. Logically I agree with it, but emotions are rather irrational. Since I was a child I hated disappointing my parents. Well, this tops it all."

"Are they disappointed?"

She faltered. "I don't know- I think so. I haven't exactly asked."

"You should. If they're not disappointed, then you're worrying over nothing. If they are disappointed, then I'm willing to bet it's not as bad as you're imagining, and you can talk about your issues."

"You're right, of course. But I don't think I can, not yet."

Draco didn't reply, and both he and Hermione sat in silence for a few minutes, neither of them eating or even moving. Hermione sighed and picked up her wand, Vanishing her left-overs. She glanced at Draco, who nodded, so she did the same for him. Draco stood up and pushed his chair back from the dining table, moving to sit on the sofa in the living room. He picked up the television remote control, but didn't turn it on.

"I have to admit, it's more than a little strange to see you holding that," Hermione commented, heading over to sit next to him. "No offense. I'm glad you overcame your prejudice."

"Well, the Muggle who sold me this flat was the one who got me hooked on it. There are some good shows on sometimes."

"I don't watch all that often."

There was another gap in the conversation- there had been far too many that evening- and Hermione felt that the elephant in the room could no longer be ignored. "You're pyrophobic, aren't you?"

Draco merely turned to look at her. "I thought that was obvious."

"I did suspect before, but it was also possible that you were just shocked by the Muggle using a lighter. After that, you hid it pretty well until today."

"I hate fire. I hate flames. I hate things burning." He rested his head against the back of the sofa, closing his eyes. "I hate candles. I hate Flooing."

"And that's why you live as a Muggle, right? Electric heaters, light bulbs, battery-powered torches."

"Ten points to Gryffindor." He opened his eyes and looked at her again. "How do you manage, Granger? You were there when Crabbe died. You've been Crucio'd. You've been through a lot of terrible things, if the stories are to be believed."

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know. I just try to put it all behind me. I've got great friends, great parents...and I guess I've always been an optimist."

"It's not that easy. After all you've been through- friends who've died, being tortured, being on the run, giving up your parents- how can you still produce a Patronus?"

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "You mean you can't?"

"No. Never have been able to, actually. Not a corporeal one anyway."

"You must have happy memories."

"Apparently not happy enough." She didn't reply and he eyed her warily. "What are you thinking?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. Malfoy, how did you know Muggles didn't use fire?"

He recognized the change in subject, but humoured her anyway. "I had heard about electricity, and I looked up more about it. One of the books I read said that electricity was Muggle's substitute for fire, which-"

"That's not true!"

"-isn't entirely correct, but it does minimize the need for fire," he finished. Hermione seemed to be waiting for him to continue, so he did. "I began reading more about Muggles, took a few trips to Muggle London, found this flat. I actually enjoy reading about Muggle history, and even about the present-day Muggle world. It's fascinating." History of Magic had always been one of Draco's best subjects; he was genuinely interested in history even though Professor Binns did nothing to make it exciting. The fact that Draco was a descendant of two very old magical families meant that quite a number of people mentioned in history were his ancestors. He sometimes felt that studying history was like tracing his family tree.

"It really is," Hermione agreed. "You do seem to have lots of books on the subject." She glanced at her watch. "I'd better be going."

Draco hadn't realized how late it had gotten. "Oh, right." He stood up and waited as Hermione gathered her things.

"Well," she began, "this has been... enjoyable, in a strange way. I think I needed to talk to someone about my parents."

"Yeah, it's been an interesting day."

Suddenly things felt terribly awkward. Draco coughed. "I guess I'll stop by your office on Monday. We can look over the papers together."

She smiled. "All right. Have a good weekend!"

A/N: And you all have a good Holy Week! :) Hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Again, thanks for reviewing/favoriting/adding our story to your alerts. :D Really makes our day. Also, happy Easter Sunday! :)

**Chapter 5**

The next day was Saturday, but Draco still received several owls from Dr. Adams updating him on the Dementor captures. The Ministry had begun targeting Dementor breeding grounds, vanishing decaying matter and adding a few fairies to light up the darkest areas. Now the Aurors were rounding up the existing Dementors. Dr. Adams wrote that Hermione had reported the sighting in Primrose Hill, and Aurors had captured the Dementor. The creatures were currently being held in Lady's Holm, an island in Scotland, trapped in a large web. The island didn't get as much sunlight as everyone would have liked, but it was uninhabited and large enough to serve their purpose.

Draco sighed and rubbed his forehead. He didn't know why Dr. Adams felt the need to tell him about each and every Dementor they captured; the letters sounded like Dr. Adams was proud at how well his spells were working. But gathering the Dementors was only half of the problem. Draco felt like he and Hermione were no closer to finding the rest of the solution. What would they do once all the Dementors were on that one island? He wondered if an atomic bomb would destroy them.

In the mid-afternoon an owl tapped on his window; the letter was from Hermione.

_Dear Malfoy,_

_Have you been getting updates from Dr. Adams too? It's quite depressing, isn't it? Are you by any chance free for a trip to Muggle London this evening?_

_Let me know,  
Hermione_

It was an intriguing prospect. Draco thought it over for a while before deciding it wasn't worth thinking about, and wrote his reply.

_Dear Granger,_

_In case you don't remember, I __live__ in Muggle London. But what did you have in mind?_

_Malfoy_

Ten minutes later, a silver otter darted in front of Draco, causing him to jump and spill his coffee all over his lap. "Shit," he mumbled, glaring at the Patronus.

"Hi, Malfoy."

Draco started again, and looked around. Then he realized the Patronus had spoken.

"I didn't want to tire the owl, so I sent my Patronus. I'll meet you at seven this evening outside Westminster Abbey. See you then!" The Patronus disappeared.

Draco scowled, vanishing the coffee from his clothes and the sofa. "Bloody talking otters."

At ten past seven, Draco was beginning to wonder if he had misheard the Patronus. He had just decided on waiting a few more minutes before Hermione came rushing up to him. "Sorry, queues were horrible. But I managed to get the tickets!" she waved two slips of paper around excitedly, looking pleased with herself.

"Tickets for what?"

"The London Eye! Have you ever been? Even if you have, you can still come with me. I'm paying for your ticket, anyway."

Draco raised his eyebrows, glancing in the distance at the large Ferris wheel. "Why couldn't we have met there, then?"

"Didn't want to spoil the surprise. Come on," Hermione tugged at his arm. "Let's go. It would be lovely to be up on it at sunset."

They crossed Westminster Bridge and joined the queue at the bottom of the London Eye. Draco noticed that beneath her excitement, Hermione looked apprehensive. He leaned closer to whisper to her. "You're afraid of heights, aren't you? That's why you don't fly?"

"I'm afraid of brooms," she whispered back. "Things like this, I can handle. I think."

Draco grinned at her uncertainty and took her hand. "You'll be fine." He couldn't stop his own shiver of excitement. He had never been on a Ferris wheel before, and the London Eye was huge. He was placing his life at the mercy of a Muggle machine, but he found he didn't mind. What better way was there for seeing London?

As soon as they had gotten into a capsule, Hermione opened the map she had bought. "Right. So, what are we looking at?"

She and Draco spent a very enjoyable half hour gazing at London's skyline and naming buildings. Hermione had her camera with her, and she took several lovely shots of the city, particularly Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament. They waved at the passengers in the other capsules. After a while they fell silent, simply enjoying the experience. Towards the end of the ride Hermione tugged Draco to the middle of the capsule. "There's a camera," she explained. "It'll take our picture. So, smile!"

Feeling rather self-conscious, Draco smiled. At the last moment he placed his arm around Hermione's shoulders, pulling her closer. She laughed, her arm going around his waist to return the embrace, and when the camera finally flashed Draco knew they both had enormous grins on their faces.

They wandered in search of a restaurant, stopping to take in the scenery or listen to some buskers. Draco felt more relaxed than he could remember, walking by the Thames with Hermione. In contrast to their conversation of the previous night, everything was lighthearted and fun. Their old insults had softened to friendly barbs, and Draco discovered that Hermione was terribly embarrassed by the time she had let her temper get the best of her and had slapped him in their third year. She in turn mercilessly brought up the Ferret Incident.

The aroma of a small restaurant, Gourmet Pizza, was too tempting to resist. In the bright, cozy Muggle restaurant, it was easy to forget that Dementors even existed. Draco almost didn't want the evening to end, and hesitantly agreed when Hermione invited him to visit the Science Museum with her the following weekend. He knew that he would feel terribly stupid, but at the same time thought it would be interesting to learn more about Muggles.

The next month or so was spent going through the papers from the Ministry archive. Draco felt like they were beating their heads against a wall. The fact was, no one, not in the present and not in the past, could understand love. Hermione encouraged him with a determined tenacity that might have been annoying if he didn't think she truly believed they would find the solution. The number of Dementor sightings seemed to have peaked and was now declining; either the public had gotten tired of reporting Dementors or most of the Dementors had been gathered. Dr. Adams had tested his own spell on the Dementor they kept in the basement, but with no luck. Occasionally, Draco practiced creating a Patronus, but with no results; he still never managed more than a wisp of silver.

"Guess what?" Hermione asked excitedly one evening. She had just arrived at Draco's flat, where they had decided to have dinner while poring over more archives.

"You know I hate guessing games, Granger," Draco grumbled. He was already in a bad mood, having been asked by Dr. Adams to write observations while the scientist tried some new spells on the captive Dementor, and seeing her in such a happy mood annoyed him even more. "What is it that I probably have a snowball's chance in hell of guessing? Unless you've found the Deadly Dementor Destroyer?"

"I've been asked to light the Diagon Alley Christmas candles!" she hopped around, looking extremely giddy. "Oh, Malfoy, you have no idea- this is a dream come true! Ever since I was a child I've loved the Christmas lights on Oxford street, and I sometimes imagined myself being the one to light them, being _that_ special. I never thought I'd actually get to do it! And this is even better, since I'll be doing a spell, not just flicking a switch. They only ask really powerful people to do it, and of course Harry did it last year, and this year they want the three of us- Harry, Ron and I- to do it. Isn't it great?"

Draco imagined the Christmas candles in Diagon Alley- every Christmas, a famous witch or wizard cast a spell that illuminated thousands of tiny candles. The candles floated above the Christmas shoppers, sometimes changing colours or forming light patterns. It was beautiful. But it was also fire. He couldn't stop the shudder that went through him at the thought.

Hermione's face fell. "Oh."

"Sorry," he said, well aware that he had just burst her bubble. "It just seems really dangerous, doesn't it? Having the flames above the crowds?"

"It's magic. The candle wax won't melt and drip onto the shoppers, and the fire is magical, confined to each candle."

"Even magical fire can get out of control," he muttered.

"Only when you don't control it." Her temper flared. "I'm much more capable of handling it than Crabbe was, you know." When Draco didn't reply, she took a deep breath. "I was sort of hoping you would come and watch."

He heard the hopeful tone of her voice and turned to look at her. She seemed to be holding her breath, waiting for his reply. "Why?"

"So many reasons. You're my friend, and I want you to be there. Ron will have his family there, and the Weasleys are practically Harry's family already, since he and Ginny are already engaged. My parents might come, but... I want you there too. For support. And because dreams that come true aren't much fun when you've got no one to share them with." Hermione looked at him pleadingly. "Please, will you come?"

It was one of those situations where it seemed best to lie. "I'll try," Draco told her. "You know what fire does to me. But I'll think about it."

She smiled. "Thank you."

They ate a quiet dinner, each engrossed in their work. Afterwards, Hermione stood up and stretched. "I have an idea."

"What?" Draco set down his quill, more than ready for a break. His head hurt, his neck was stiff.

"Let's work on your Patronus."

He groaned. "It's more fun for you than it is for me." It was irritating. He knew Granger had a one-track mind, but couldn't she let this go? He wasn't used to not being able to master a spell, and he hated failing, especially in front of her.

"But why wouldn't it be fun? You just think of happy memories, there's nothing better than reminiscing happy memories."

Draco sighed, deciding to humour her. He closed his eyes and remembered finding out he was made Prefect. "_Expecto Patronum_!"

Nothing happened. Hermione waited a few moments before asking, "what were you thinking of?"

"Becoming Prefect."

"That's a good memory!" she said encouragingly. "But maybe... it was a bit too long ago?"

"I think it's just that when I think of how I was a Prefect, I remember how I wasn't made Head Boy."

"Oh. I guess you should choose another one, then. Maybe the time we went to the London Eye? That was fun, wasn't it? Or last weekend, the boats at Hyde Park."

Draco stiffened. He remembered the look Hermione got on her face when she had realized he couldn't produce a Patronus, and the way she had changed the subject right after. And as things clicked into place, he lost his temper. "That's it, isn't it?" he asked. "You did all those things to fix me."

"What are you talking about?"

He stood up forcefully, shoving the table away. "I'm talking about all the weekend excursions you planned- great Merlin, Granger, I thought you were doing everything because you were my friend, but I'm just a- a _project_ for you, something you can fix, someone you can help." He couldn't believe he had fallen for it.

Hermione looked exasperated. "I've never thought of you as a project! Why would I ask you to come to the candle lighting ceremony if-"

"You want to fix that too. Make me get over my phobia," Draco said accusingly. Hermione shook her head, but he cut her off before she could speak. "Merlin, I can't believe I believed you. It's like your disease, isn't it? You can't stand people not being perfect. You can't bear not helping people, even when they don't want your help. You're like Potter with some fucking hero complex, and the whole world has to be just the way you like it- your friends have to be just the way you want them. No unhappy memories or pyrophobias for you, no, your friends have to be fixed before you can call them that. Bloody hell, Granger!"

Hermione folded her arms across her chest and stared hard at him. "Are you finished?"

"I think you should leave." His voice was cold. She didn't flinch.

"That's funny, I was thinking the same thing." Hermione stalked towards him, poking him hard in the chest. "I could have slapped you again, you know. In fact, I _should_ have. But I think it would be more fun for you to realize, on your own, how completely and utterly _stupid_ you're being. Circe, Draco, how can you even think that? How can you-" she broke off abruptly, getting herself under control. She turned to gather her things. "When you're ready to apologize, you know where to find me. Until then, don't bother me." She gave him a hard look and strode to the door, slamming it shut behind her. Draco stared after her, before grabbing his napkin and throwing it at the closed door. It fluttered harmlessly to the ground in a less than satisfying way. Growling, Draco strode to the living room where he threw a pillow against the wall.

"Fuck!" Why did Hermione have to be that way? Why did she have to be so infuriating and self-righteous? It was enough to drive anyone up the wall. She always had to mold people into her idea of how a person should be. And now she expected him to apologize. Draco scowled. _She_ hadn't uttered a single apology, but she expected him to be sorry?

What was so special about Patronuses, anyway? They didn't define a person. Just because he couldn't create a Patronus didn't make him a bad person. Another pillow hit the wall, before Draco collapsed onto his couch with a massive sigh. He felt exhausted.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Sorry it's taken us ages to post this chapter! Things have happened- including a short holiday. We decided to post this while we could. After this, one more chapter to go! Thanks so much for reviewing and following the fic. We're fixing up another short fic that we'd like to post once this fic is done. Also, if you'd like to do so, please don't forget to second Forgettable Vows at the dramione awards! Thank you!

**Chapter 6**

Three days passed before Draco knocked on Hermione's door. "Come in," she said.

Heart pounding, Draco swallowed his pride and opened the door. "Hi."

Hermione set down her quill and closed her inkwell. "Yes?"

He cleared his throat. "Can I come in?"

"Please do."

Draco closed the door behind him and sat down. Hermione kept her eyes on him and he met her gaze evenly. She looked almost like she had been waiting for him, a thought he decided to ignore. He took a deep breath, deciding to get it over with. "I apologize," he began stiffly, "for insulting you and saying you thought of me as a project."

"Did you really believe all the rubbish you were spouting?"

"I actually did, at the time." At her incredulous expression, Draco elaborated. "I had an awful day. I had to observe the Dementor while Dr. Adams-"

"Dementor?" Hermione asked sharply. "Is that why you were being such a bastard?"

"Yes. No." Draco closed his eyes and sighed. "No. I'm... really just a bastard." Hermione laughed, and Draco chuckled as well. "No, really, Dementors don't give me license to act like an idiot. So, I'm sorry." It had taken him until morning to realize he had wronged Hermione; the next few days had been spent swallowing his pride.

To his immense relief, Hermione didn't push him. "You're forgiven," she said archly. Then her smile softened. "You became my friend the moment you saved me from Goyle. You were never a project."

Draco shifted uncomfortably. He never thought of that incident; he still never saw himself as a hero. "Have you found anything?" he asked, trying to distract her.

"I have, actually," Hermione said. "If you hadn't come today I would have gone to get you." She passed him a piece of parchment. "This is a list of containment spells- spells used to confine love into the room."

He frowned at the squiggles on the ancient parchment. "What's this?"

"Centuries ago, before the fire, Unspeakables wrote in code, to protect their research. All Unspeakables have to know it, but we don't use it anymore- it's just too difficult. Security at the Department of Mysteries was improved, so people found the code wasn't necessary. I'm not sure how this piece of parchment got saved when many others were destroyed- as I said, their system of filing wasn't very organized back then. I've been deciphering it, writing out the spells. I've never heard of them before, so I was thinking you could research more on them while I continue translating the other papers."

"Sounds good," Draco skimmed through the paper. He felt excited; this was the first real breakthrough they'd had in their research.

"I've already compiled a list of books that might be useful, and I've checked them out of the library- they're over there," she indicated a rather large stack.

"Perfect." He stood up and levitated the books, heading for the door. "Do you want to have dinner at my place tonight? We can continue the research there. I promise not to kick you out this time."

Hermione smiled. "And I promise not to push the Patronus issue."

Later that evening, after dinner, the two continued their research. Draco found himself nodding off when Hermione gasped. "Malfoy!"

"What?"

"I think I've found it." Her voice shook with excitement. "I think I've found how to open the door."

Draco's heart thudded in his chest. "How?" He reached for the parchment Hermione was reading, and grunted in frustration when he realized he couldn't read the Unspeakable's code. "What does it say?"

"It says that the 'silver guardian' opens the door."

"Silver guardian? Well, that's no help."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I was thinking we could try a Patronus."

"Oh." Draco looked sheepish. "Right. So does it say what's in the room?"

"No, it doesn't... it does say something about happiness not existing where there is no love. So perhaps a Patronus isn't purely happiness and positive memories, but also the love that we get from those happy memories."

"If Patronuses were made of love, wouldn't they destroy Dementors instead of just guarding us from them?"

Hermione rubbed her forehead. "Good point." She stared at her parchment for a while longer before looking up at him. "How are you getting along with the containment spells?"

"They're actually quite general," Draco said. "One is similar to what Dr. Adams incorporated into his Web of Light, it uses runes as well. They're not specifically for love- I think the Unspeakables just used these eight spells because they didn't know which one would work."

"We're never going to find the answer," Hermione groaned, resting her forehead against the table. "This is pointless."

Draco stayed silent for a few minutes. "I think we have all the answers we need," he said eventually, looking at Hermione. He realized that she had fallen asleep, her head pillowed in her arms. Hesitantly, he shook her arm. "Granger, wake up."

She jerked awake. "Oh, Draco, I'm so sorry. I fell asleep," she added unnecessarily, rubbing her eyes "What were you saying?"

"I think you should go home and go to bed," he told her. "We can continue this tomorrow."

"No, I'm awake now," she protested. "We can do another hour at least."

Draco shook his head. "Let's do this tomorrow, we're both exhausted. I was nodding off before you were."

Hermione chuckled. "All right." She stifled a yawn. "Hopefully tomorrow we'll find something more concrete."

"I think we should just open the door."

She stared at him, her mouth slightly open. "_What?_ But we don't know anything yet!"

"We know how to open the door, and we know how to contain the love. We could open it-"

"And get ourselves killed in the process."

"Death by love?" Draco asked skeptically. "I don't think so."

"You never know."

"Nowhere in our research does it say love can kill us."

"Nowhere does it say it's safe," she countered. "The magic has been building up in there for hundreds of years! If we release it, the power could- could _squish_ us!"

Draco chuckled. "Squish us?"

"It's not funny! The deluge coming from that room-" Hermione broke off, and Draco could tell she was genuinely worried.

"It'll be fine," he assured her. "I've been looking at these containment spells, we can extend them to include the revolving room, so the rest of the Ministry is unharmed. And if we keep your Patronus in front of us, it might somehow stop the power from... squishing us." His lips twitched. "That's what it's there for, to protect us."

"Listen to yourself. 'Might somehow'. There's no guarantee!"

"And there never will be," he said. "Look. It's Thursday. Let's give ourselves until Sunday to find more information. Sunday is the best day to test this theory anyway, when there's no one in the Ministry. Even Unspeakables don't work on Sundays, right?"

"I do."

"Well, we can have MacLeod tell everyone not to come in." Draco tapped his fingers against the tabletop excitedly, pleased to finally have some course of action. "Opening the room is the only way to find out what's inside it."

Hermione frowned thoughtfully. "I guess you're right. This goes against standard protocol, though."

"This isn't a standard scenario. We don't have time to wait until we know everything about the room. We have to take risks."

"All right." She stood up and collected her papers. "Goodnight, Draco."

He said goodnight and she Disapparated. Draco sat at the table for a few more minutes, thinking. It was the third time Hermione had called him by his first name. He never commented on it, but he noticed it every time. It felt strange. It felt good. He wanted to return the feeling, the friendship, and call her Hermione, but he could never bring himself to say her name. It sounded too personal. He sighed. One day, he'd say it. 

-O-O-

"Okay, we're all set."

"Are you sure? I'll check the runes again."

Draco rolled his eyes as Hermione checked the runes for the nth time. MacLeod, however, looked on approvingly. As the head of the Department of Mysteries, she was required to be present at the opening of the Ever-Locked Room; it was a duty and a privilege. They were in the revolving room, and had placed the runes so that the love that left the locked room wouldn't escape into the Ministry. Hermione had managed to stop the doors from shifting, making their job a bit easier. MacLeod stayed near the back of the room, merely observing.

"All right." Hermione took a deep breath. "Let's do this."

Draco gave her an encouraging smile. "You'll be the first person in four hundred years to open this door. Just think of it, Hermione!" He held his breath, waiting for her reaction as he said her name, but she just smiled back and closed her eyes, concentrating.

"_Expecto patronum_!"

The silver otter burst from her wand and hovered around them for a moment before turning to the Ever-Locked Room and passing through the door. A second later they heard a click, and looked at each other in trepidation.

"Stand behind me," Draco said. He waited as Hermione reluctantly got into position behind him, and gripped the handle of the door. "Here goes."

Taking a deep breath, Draco turned the handle and pushed the door open. At once, he felt a wave of power crashing over him. His every sense was overwhelmed, and he was lost in the sensation. He closed his eyes, unable to breathe but beyond caring. It staggered him, this power he felt, it was like nothing he had ever experienced. It felt wonderful, but it hurt. He wanted to laugh, he wanted to cry. It was happiness and sadness, ecstasy and heartbreak. It was the sweetest pain he had ever felt. He was unaware of time passing, until the feeling faded. He opened his eyes and saw Hermione's Patronus in front of him, shielding him. Behind the Patronus, Draco saw rows and rows of vials, before Hermione reached in front of him and closed the door firmly. "Are you all right?" she asked, sounding shaken.

Draco noticed that no time had passed; what had felt like an age had only been one second. "I'm fine." He took a deep breath. "That felt... that was..."

"Indescribable." She turned to Dr. MacLeod, who was scribbling observations onto a piece of parchment. "Did you feel it too, Maggie?"

"I did."

Draco watched her write, remembering the feeling. "Why did it hurt?"

Hermione shrugged. "Love hurts." She sagged against the wall. Draco could feel his heart still soaring, perhaps from the magic still contained in the room. "That was love at its purest, Draco. I think- of course we still need to test this, but I think it will definitely destroy the Dementors. They can't withstand anything like that. It almost killed _us_."

MacLeod shook her head. "It was extremely powerful, but I doubt it would have killed us. It seemed to just flow through our bodies, like we were conductors, channels. Our bodies are open to love, we receive and return it. However, I don't think Dementors will be able to withstand that. They aren't capable of receiving love, and I doubt they could ever give it."

"Should we get the Dementor that Dr. Adams has and test this theory?" Hermione asked.

"Wait, is there still love in the room?" Draco looked worried. "It didn't all rush out, did it? What were those vials?"

"I think it's safe to open the room," Hermione said. "The rush of power was so strong because the power had been trapped in the room for so long, but now some of it's in this room, and if we drop the containment spells we don't have to worry about it being too strong for us. It didn't seem to have any dangerous effects on us, so I think that, for now at least, we can release the containment spells. I read in some old papers something about a 'source'. So that must mean the love doesn't get finished. I think we can open it again, actually." She looked at Dr. MacLeod for confirmation.

The Department Head nodded. "I agree. We might as well explore the room while we're here. Hermione, if you would open it again?"

In a matter of seconds the door was reopened. Draco felt the same rush of emotions, although with slightly less intensity. Even with the painful pang in his chest, he _knew_ he wanted to be in love; he wanted to love, despite the pain, because the pleasure made the pain worth it. Draco peered over Hermione's shoulder to see the shelves of vials and, in the middle of the room, a simple fountain, with a substance- not quite liquid- that glistened in a manner that reminded him of stars twinkling. As they watched, the substance appeared to be magically bottled, and the vials stored on the shelves. Each of the vials contained a slightly different coloured substance; some were varying shades of red, whereas others took on hues of yellow, blue, and every colour of the rainbow. A fine mist seemed to rise from the fountain, as if the substance was lighter than air.

Unable to grasp what was going on, Draco turned his attention to the fountain. Hermione was studying the inscriptions on the side, which were written in the code used by the Unspeakables. "What does it say?" he asked.

"Wait." Hermione frowned, motioning for him to be quiet. Dr. MacLeod joined her and began copying the inscription onto her parchment. Finally, Hermione looked at Draco. "It basically says that this fountain stores love. Each of these bottles contains a sample of love of each magical person in Britain- if we were to look around these bottles I think we'd find samples of our own love. We know there are different types of love, hence the different colours; the samples are all different colours and shades because we each love differently- some have more familial love while others have romantic love, and so forth. No one loves exactly the same."

Draco stared at her, unable to fully wrap his mind around what she was saying. How was it even possible that the love of every witch and wizard in Britain was stored here? Being raised as a Pureblood, he had no problem accepting Hermione's statement as fact; after all, many things were possible with magic. He still had a thousand questions, but decided most of them could wait. Now that the door had been opened, there was nothing stopping them from opening it again.

"How can love be bottled if it's non-matter?"

Hermione chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. "The bottles are just containers. Non-matter doesn't take up space, nor does it have mass, but it can be contained. We definitely need to study non-matter more thoroughly. I wonder what it feels like." She looked wistfully at the fountain, as if she wanted to touch it.

Draco frowned, suddenly noticing that the mist rising from the fountain appeared to have taken on a rather definite form. "Hermione, why are you in the mist?"

"What are you talking about?" Hermione blinked, her focus shifting from the fountain to the mist. With a start, she realized that the mist had formed into the very familiar features of her parents, before twisting and changing as it rose into Harry and Ron. "Why are i_you_/i in the mist?" she asked accusingly, spying Draco's face beside them in the vapour.

"That's not me, that's my father!" He sounded indignant. "Surely you can tell us apart-"

"Draco, we're looking at different things," she realized, now seeing a bunch of Weasleys.

"What?"

"You're each looking at your own perception of love," MacLeod interrupted them. "Or people you do love. I see, for example, my parents, my sister, my husband and children. And a crucifix," she added, looking at the mist.

"But then why-" Draco broke off, frowning. Wouldn't that mean that he loved Hermione?

"Oh, Draco! I had no idea!" Hermione said playfully, clasping her hands together and pretending to swoon. "You love me!" He could see by the pink tinge of her cheeks that she was embarrassed, and decided that this was her method of breaking the awkwardness.

He rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Granger. You love me too." He sent her a teasing grin, which somehow made her blush more. "Why was there such a flood of love when we opened the room, if the love is in bottles?" he asked, turning back to the matter at hand. "We'll still be able to use this room to stop the Dementors, right?"

"Yes. The samples of love in the vials are just samples, they're not the entirety of the love of an individual, otherwise we would have no love in us. Some of the love isn't bottled and exists in this room, and that is what we felt when we opened the doors."

He nodded, not fully understanding but pleased with the answer. "So when can we test it on Dr. Adams' Dementor?"

Hermione turned to her boss. "Can we test it today? While the Ministry is empty. Otherwise we might have to wait until next Sunday."

MacLeod nodded. "You have my permission, if you can get Mortimer's permission to use his Dementor."

"Maybe you can go and ask him, Draco," Hermione suggested. "Maggie and I can explore this room."

Draco nodded and left quickly, his pulse racing with anticipation.

The next time he stood in the revolving room, the Dementor was already secured in the Web of Light. Draco stayed as far away from the creature as possible, trying to ignore the faint voices of terror screaming in his head. "Can we please just get on with it?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Hermione paused in her triple-checking of the runes, and looked at him. "Of course," she said, looking alarmed at his expression. After a quick glance at their two mentors she raised her wand. "_Expecto patronum_."

Draco could scarcely watch as the Patronus floated through the door. His heart was sinking; he knew it wouldn't work. It was hopeless, and all their hard work was for nothing. Beside him, Hermione reached for his hand. Her fingers were cold and clammy, probably like his, but it was a comfort to know that she was scared too.

The lock clicked, and Hermione gently pushed the door open. Everyone in the room turned to watch the Dementor, which had been prowling the edges of its Web, as it was wont to do. Everything happened quickly; Draco thought he heard a faint rattling sound as the Dementor flew to the far edge of the Web, as far as it could get from the power spilling from the room. A bright light hit the Dementor, trying to swallow the darkness, before finally succeeding. When the light had faded, he approached the Web. There was no sign of the creature he hated so much. His heart skipped a beat, and he could scarcely believe it was over.

"It's gone," he announced.

Things happened quickly after that, and Draco found himself lost in paperwork, preparing reports and filling application forms to allow the transport of the larger group of Dementors into the Ministry the following weekend. MacLeod kept Hermione busy as well, and there was never a moment where the two could just relax and celebrate. The Minister decided that one week was short notice, and gave the Aurors another week to catch any Dementors that hadn't yet been rounded up. Draco felt frustrated by the extension- he was so close to being free from the Dementors, perhaps free from Dr. Adams, who didn't seem to know what to do with himself now that the destruction of Dementors seemed imminent. It did allow Draco more time to complete his report, detailing exactly what he and Hermione had learned. She was less concerned with the Dementors and more focused on the room itself, and on the power contained by the room. Once the Dementors were disposed of, she and the other Unspeakables would study the room extensively. Draco envied the stability of her future, but felt he could use a break from the subject.

His despair was most acute in the presence of Dementors, but when Hermione was with him, the effects of the creatures were slightly, but noticeably less pronounced. Draco supposed it was because having her present made it easier to recall happier memories. The population of Dementors was so large that they had to destroy them in groups. Draco didn't need to be present, as the Aurors were assisting, but he wanted to be, just to see, with his own eyes, that love was indeed killing the Dementors.

He was exhausted when the time came to eliminate the last group of Dementors. He slipped into the revolving room just before the Ever Locked Room was opened, having been told by his superiors- and Hermione- to keep away from the Dementors as much as possible. Almost immediately, Hermione's Patronus welcomed him, shielding him from the detrimental effects of the Dementors. He threw her a grateful look.

The Head Auror gave a nod, and the silver otter swam through the door. Draco felt cold at the loss of the Patronus, but just then the door opened and he watched with great satisfaction as the love hit the Dementors, overpowering them until they were reduced to nothing.

Draco breathed a sigh of relief. It was truly over.

As the Aurors removed their wards and charms, Hermione made her way to Draco, a big smile on her face. "I can't believe we've done it! No more Dementors!"

He forced himself to smile back, the heavy feeling still remaining in his chest. "I know."

With a knowing look, Hermione withdrew from her pocket a pack of chocolate. "Eat up," she said, handing it to him. "Dr. Adams and Maggie said we could have the day off tomorrow, but we're to do the final debriefing tonight." Her eyes shone with triumph and excitement. "Oh, Draco, we're part of history!"

"You always were, since you befriended Potter." He unwrapped the chocolate and broke off a piece, popping it into his mouth. "Would you like some?" If she was surprised by his consideration, she didn't show it. Draco didn't know why he asked her, as he certainly wasn't in the mood to be nice, but shrugged it off. Hermione was his closest friend, and if the laws of friendship dictated that he offer her chocolate, so be it.

"Thanks," she broke off her own piece. They walked in silence to MacLeod's office. "Is the chocolate not helping?" she asked when they were almost there and Draco had yet to lose his scowl.

He sighed. "I think this whole thing hasn't sunk in yet. The Dementors are gone. What's next? I didn't think about it before- didn't want to think about it, but after this, I'll be unemployed. Again." Draco could scarcely keep the bitterness out of his voice. It was ironic that with this achievement, he lost his job.

They had reached the Department Head's office. Hermione turned to look at him. "It'll work out, Draco."

"Easy for you to say," he muttered, knocking on the door and pushing past her. If he felt a momentary twinge of guilt at his brusqueness, he didn't show it. 


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: The last chapter! Yay, we're finally posting it. Sorry we stopped posting as regularly during these last few chapters, we got a bit busy. But, we're happy to say that though this fic is at an end, we've got some others that we've been working on. Some of them are done, and just being edited, whereas others are being written for various challenges. :) Thank you so much to everyone for following our stories, and for reviewing and favoriting! Hope you enjoy this last chapter!**

**Chapter 7**

Once again, Hermione was right, and things did work out. Draco and Hermione were both being considered for Orders of Merlin for their contributions in the defeat of the Dementors. Dr. MacLeod offered Draco a job as an Unspeakable, provided he pass the strict training requirements. He was assigned with Hermione to study the Love Chamber, which was still kept closed most of the time until the effects of love- other than on Dementors- had been studied extensively.

The next two months passed relatively peacefully- away from the influence of the Dementors, and with a more stable job, Draco's spirits rose considerably. He and Hermione continued to explore London every weekend, even venturing outside London once or twice. For her birthday, Draco purchased tickets at the Royal Albert Hall so Hermione could listen to her favourite orchestra. Draco occasionally thought of the revelation in the Love Chamber, that he loved her, but he told himself it was a platonic love, and thereby kept things from getting awkward. Their friendship deepened even further, but he was worried it wouldn't survive the obstacle presented by the Diagon Alley Candle-Lighting Ceremony. He knew Hermione was still hoping he would change his mind and attend, but it was impossible. He could barely sit still whenever a Muggle would light a cigarette using a portable flame that Hermione called a lighter.

Draco knew it upset Hermione that he wouldn't go, so he did everything else he could to be involved without actually attending the Ceremony. He agreed that one of their Saturday trips be replaced with a shopping spree, and he even offered to help her search for the perfect dress robes. He was of absolutely no use except to carry Hermione and Ginny's bags, but the smile on Hermione's face made him feel he was at least on his way to making up for his failings.

The night before the Ceremony, Hermione had dinner with Draco at his flat. He could see that she was nervous.

"Tea?" he offered, after the meal.

"Yes, please." Hermione sat at the table, playing with her napkin, while Draco went to get the tea. She smiled when he returned with two steaming mugs.

"All right, what are you worried about?" he asked, breaking the silence. "Your dress is fine, your shoes are perfect, Ginny said she'd help you with your hair, and Potter and Weasley will be there with you."

She sighed. "I don't know i_what_/i I'm worried about. I hope my robes aren't too much-"

"They aren't."

"-and that I don't get cold-"

"You won't. Warming charms."

"-and that I don't trip."

"Your heels aren't that high, and Potter and Weasley will catch you." Draco chuckled. "You'll be fine, Hermione."

She looked slightly reassured, but not convinced. "This is a once in a lifetime thing, Draco. A childhood dream. What if it's not like I imagined?" She blew gently on her tea.

"Well, I can't help you on that one. But as long as you enjoy yourself, who cares if it's like you imagined?" Seeing her hesitation, Draco tried a different route. "You'll be making history, Granger. Remember how easy it was last time? Slaughter a few Dementors, and bang, history."

Hermione laughed. "Right, easy."

"Besides, if hundreds of witches before you have done it, you can do it too! And you can do it better."

That seemed to have the desired effect. "You're right. If others can do it, so can I. And I'll have fun while doing it."

"That's the spirit." Draco raised his mug, and Hermione followed suit. "To Granger, who's finally found her Gryffindor courage."

"To Malfoy, who miraculously has managed to make me feel better."

Draco laughed at that. "Miraculously? I've always known how to push your buttons. It was no miracle."

Hermione scoffed. "Your modesty- or lack thereof- never ceases to amaze me."

"You'll get used to it."

They lapsed into silence again, which Hermione broke. "I'm quite looking forward to spending the day with the Weasleys and Harry. Well, the morning, at least. I think the afternoon will be devoted to getting dressed. But it's been ages since we all got together, it should be fun."

Draco's lips quirked. "We have very different ideas of fun." He didn't elaborate that a day with the Weasleys sounded akin to torture.

Hermione knew what he was thinking, though, and glared at him. "They're not that bad, you know. You've spent more time with Harry and Ron, and neither of you boys have killed the other."

Seeing that she was getting upset, Draco held up his hands. "Look, Hermione. Potter and Weasley are your friends, and I'm okay with that, just like they're okay with you being my friend, too. But I'll never be friends with _them_."

She shrugged. "If you say so." But Draco caught a glint in her eye which meant she'd do everything she could to foster a friendship between the three boys. She changed the subject. "Are you sure you won't be there tomorrow?"

"I said I'd think about it." His lie came easily.

"How much longer do you need to think? It's already tomorrow, Draco!" Hermione huffed. "Just tell me if you're going or not, so I won't be disappointed."

"Why do you want me to come? Why is it so important to you?"

"Why do you think?" she snapped, seeming upset that he didn't know. "You're my friend! We've been over this before, haven't we?" She drank the rest of her tea and took her mug to the kitchen, where she began to wash up. Draco followed her. "It wouldn't be complete without you, why can't you see that?"

"Granger, this isn't easy for me!" he ground out, frustrated. "Maybe you're not afraid of anything, but I am! If it were as simple as you flicking a switch- but it's _fire_-"

She sighed, looking disappointed. "Right. You're right. It was inconsiderate of me."

Draco knew the difference between them, even if she couldn't see it. Hermione was the type of person who would run_ through_ fire to help her friends. Draco was more likely to run away. A memory came to mind- running towards Goyle as he choked Hermione- running _towards_ her, not away from her. He thought maybe it was time to try looking past the flames, so to speak, to see his friend behind them. "Look," he said, hoping to cheer her up slightly. "I'm thinking about it. I haven't just said 'no'. I'm doing my best."

"Of course you are." Hermione tried to smile. "I'm sorry."

"If I do go, you'll see me with my sign," he joked, encouraged by her grin.

"Your sign?"

Waving his wand, Draco conjured a large sign that read 'GO GRANGER!' Hermione laughed. "All right, Draco, I believe you. You _are_ trying, and I'm sorry to imply otherwise."

"Good." He waved his wand over the dishes to clean them, preventing Hermione from hand-washing them, as she preferred to do. "Now, you'd better be going, you've got a busy day tomorrow, and you need to sleep early to look your best."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but prepared to leave anyway. "Goodnight, Draco," she said, gathering her bag and her coat. "I hope I'll see you tomorrow."

"I hope so too," he said sincerely, waving goodbye as she Disapparated.

The next day, Draco steeled himself and knocked on Hermione's apartment door. He had spent the morning rehearsing what he'd say, how he'd tell her. The words died on his lips when the door opened to reveal a tall, red-haired man instead of the bushy haired female he had been expecting.

"Hello, Malfoy."

"Weasley. Is Hermione home?"

Ron nodded and moved aside, opening the door for Draco to enter. "Hermione!" he called out, "Malfoy's here."

Draco moved into the living room to wait, but it wasn't long before the bedroom door opened and Hermione dashed out, wearing her brand new dress robes. Her hair was styled, but she hadn't yet put her make-up on.

"Draco!" she exclaimed, "I didn't think you were-"

"I'm not," he said flatly, interrupting her. Better to tell her straight, before she got her hopes too high up. "I came to tell you that I can't go."

The effect was instantaneous, and Draco could almost feel the disappointment radiating from her. Her face fell, and her shoulders drooped. "Really?"

Draco sighed. "Look, I'm really sorry. I want to go, in fact, I wish I could. But I can't." He glanced at Ron, who was watching them from the doorway, and stepped closer to her, lowering his voice. "I had nightmares last night. I really can't go. Just the thought-"

"It's fine. I get it."

"I'll be listening on my wireless," Draco said, hoping it would appease her. "It'll be just like I'm there."

"No, it won't." Hermione straightened her shoulders, and looked at Draco squarely. "Thank you for coming to tell me this, but if you'll excuse me, I have to finish getting ready so I don't keep Ron and Harry waiting." She strode into her room and closed the door firmly, leaving Draco staring helplessly after her.

He cursed softly, collapsing on the couch.

"She'll come around," Ron said, perching himself on the dining table. "She's disappointed now, but she'll come around."

"I know that, Weasley. But she's asking too much."

"She's not. She just wants you to be there, for some mind-boggling reason. She's not forcing you to go."

Draco heaved a sigh. "Yeah, but it's easier said than done. You can't imagine what it's like."

"I think I can," Ron replied quietly, but firmly.

"What are you afraid of?"

If Draco had taken time to think about it, he would have realized it was a strange and pivotal moment in his life. Here he was, confiding and seeking support from a Weasley, and he was determined not to belittle or mock Ron for the confidences he was about to make.

"Spiders. And once I was in the Forbidden Forest with Harry, speaking to an acromantula in his, well, lair, surrounded by all his descendants." Ron shuddered visibly. "It was horrible."

Draco was impressed. Impressed and jealous. He wished, even just for tonight, that he had some of that Gryffindor bravery. "Well, Weasley, you're more than I gave you credit for. Unfortunately, not all of us can face our phobias so well. But I hate that I'm hurting her."

Ron gave a wry smile. "Really? That's a change."

"Yes." He stood up. "I'd better go, before I upset her even more."

There was a sharp knock on the door just then, and then Harry came in. He raised his eyebrows at Malfoy. "Didn't think you'd be coming."

"I'm not." Draco nodded curtly at the two men. "I'll be off now. Enjoy the evening." He turned on the spot and reappeared at his own flat. He sighed and shuffled to his bedroom, changing into more comfortable home clothes. He returned to the living room and Summoned his wireless, setting it down on top of the coffee table as he took a seat on the sofa. It was too early to turn it on, and he idly twirled his wand in his fingers as he thought about what he was missing.

It was really too bad that Hermione was asking him to go to a celebration where the main event was _lighting candles_. Draco shuddered. Candles, with their tiny little flames that burned. Logically, he knew not to be afraid, but he couldn't help himself. It was just his luck that he was allergic to Calming Draughts. He hadn't been lying about the nightmare he had had the previous night, he had felt the heat and smelled the smoke as vividly as if it had all been real. Why was it, though, that he hadn't been afraid before? How could one moment in time change his life so drastically?

Inevitably, his thoughts turned back to Hermione. He really did want to go and see her fulfill her childhood dream of lighting the Christmas lights. Draco was sure she'd look beautiful. He had already found her beautiful earlier, and she hadn't even done her make-up yet. He wasn't sure how he felt about that revelation. He wasn't sure how he felt about letting her down either. But really, she'd get over it. She'd probably forget all about him once the lights were lit. It probably would be a Patronus-worthy moment for her, and an insignificant thing like Draco not being there shouldn't spoil it.

"_Expecto patronum_," Draco said out loud, waving his wand like Hermione had taught him to. It didn't work, of course, as he hadn't been thinking of a happy memory. Realizing it was about time to turn on the wireless, he did so, and settled back against the sofa cushions to listen.

"_-arrival of Harry Potter! With him are his two friends, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. While we wait for the show to start, let's go through tonight's programme. The opening address will be given by the Minister of Magic, Mr. Kingsley Shacklebolt, and then Ms. Granger will say a few words about the significance of tonight's lighting. Mr. Weasley will also give a short message before the lighting, and then after the lighting, Mr. Potter will leave us with some words of wisdom. Without further ado, let's listen to the Minister!"_

Draco could almost picture it all in his head, having attended many such ceremonies when he was growing up. The Malfoys made an appearance every year until he turned sixteen, usually sitting in the front row. He remembered how his mother would give him a new set of dress robes every year, and every year she would tell him just how handsome he was, and how proud she was to sit next to him.

"_Expecto Patronum_!"

Nothing happened, but Draco was sure that something almost had. He tuned out the voice of Shacklebolt and tried again. It was always fun to attend Ministry events with his parents, because everyone treated the Malfoys with respect. Even the current Minister of Magic, no matter how new or old he was, knew Draco and would call him by name, sometimes even giving him sweets. It was no wonder Draco had been so arrogant when he arrived at Hogwarts.

Draco closed his eyes and let his mind wander. Hermione wasn't speaking yet anyway. He remembered how she had taken him to the London Eye, and how they had argued about it. He hadn't tried to produce a Patronus from that memory, or any of the other happy ones she had given him, but sitting in his flat, he found that reminiscing on that day really did make him happy.

"_Expecto Patronum_!"

Draco opened his eyes to see a silvery otter floating in front of him, before it vanished. The first thought in his mind was that Hermione had sent her Patronus, and then he realized that he had seen his own Patronus. And it was exactly the same animal as Hermione's. He didn't want to think of the implications of that just then.

He wasn't sure whether it was the presence of the Patronus, or the fact that he had just cast his first corporeal one, or that it was the similar to Hermione's, but in that second he felt courage course through him. Before he could change his mind, he grabbed the Wireless, ran to his room and changed out of his home clothes. Hermione began her speech just as he was putting on his socks. He spared a minute or two to check the mirror and make sure he was presentable, and that his hair wasn't messed up by lying on the couch. Satisfied with his appearance, Draco hurried to the living room, still carrying his Wireless. Hermione's speech was ending, so he turned off his radio and grabbed his cloak and one more item, preparing to Disapparate. He almost hesitated, but forced himself not to, as he Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron. Draco would have Apparated straight into Diagon Alley if he hadn't been so sure that he'd land on a fellow bystander.

Calling out a hurried greeting to Tom, who knew him well from his frequent dinners there with Hermione, Draco rushed to the back of the pub. He inhaled deeply as he braced himself for what he was about to do. Gritting his teeth, he tapped the proper sequence of bricks, and watched as the doorway formed before him.

Hermione had seen the doorway form. She had been looking at it every time it admitted another latecomer, hoping it would be him. She had been starting to lose hope, when the arch formed and a familiar blond head appeared. Hermione held her breath, hoping that she wasn't mistaken about his identity. When he stepped forward, looking at the candles warily, she knew he had come.

The first things he saw were the candles. They had already been lit and were flickering brightly above the crowd. Diagon Alley was flooded with light. With a gulp, Draco fought back his rising panic and forced himself to look at the stage over at the far end of the alley, where Hermione and the other guests were. She was looking directly at him, and for a second he forgot all about the hundreds of small flames just overhead. With a self-conscious grin, Draco raised the sign he was holding- GO GRANGER!- and waved at her. She beamed at him, and both of them felt a familiar feeling that they associated with a certain room nine floors beneath the ground.


End file.
